


Sail Home To Me

by sadwendigo, UnproblematicMe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Biting, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Childhood Friends, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Misunderstandings, Pirate Crowley (Good Omens), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Crowley (Good Omens), Sexual Content, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22699897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadwendigo/pseuds/sadwendigo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnproblematicMe/pseuds/UnproblematicMe
Summary: Captain Crowley, known as Black Viper, leads the most fearsome and successful pirate crew over all the seas. They take what they want gold, diamonds, and pearls, but Crowley has been searching for a particular treasure. After years of loneliness on his ship Eden, he's finally found what he's been looking for, enter scholar Aziraphale.Pirate Captain Crowley/Scholar Aziraphale
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 262
Kudos: 817
Collections: Bittersweet Good Omens, Ineffable Humans AU, Ixnael’s Recommendations, Tip Top Stories, Top Crowley Library





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've collaborated with my favorite good omens author (UnproblematicMe) for everyone's pleasure. It's a pirate AU with sex, romance, and misunderstandings. What more could you ask for? YO HO It's Crowley's duty to please that booty.  
> Love -SadWendigo
> 
> *Also, this is set in its own universe*

Aziraphale stormed into his quarters, body shaking and out of breath. It was a humble room above Tadfield’s library, the furniture made of dark wood, the window small, the old stone walls bare, but it was his sanctuary, his safe space. Well, it had been, but not for much longer. Screams and cruel laughter pierced through the halls, reminding the scholar that he didn’t have much time. With a bleeding heart, he started to make a mess of his beloved room. Aziraphale ripped open the closet and threw all his well-kept clothes on the floor. With one swift move of his arm, he swiped his notes and scrolls off the desk. He even emptied his bookshelf, flinching as his cherished treasures hit the ground. If his plan worked, he could take care of the books later. He rushed to mess up his bed, making sure that the soft sheets hung down towards the floor, hiding him as he disappeared underneath.

Aziraphale had hid just in time. Only a few seconds later, footsteps approached and someone entered the room, a haunting whistle filling the space.

“Lookie 'ere,” a male voice said. “What a mess. Were ya already in here, Ligur?”

“Nah,” answered another man. “Probably Beez and Dagon. Seems they beat us to it then.”

“Viper won’t be happy with 'em.”

“When’s he ever?”

The pirates laughed while Aziraphale wanted to cry. **_‘Viper_ ** ’ the man had said. This confirmed his worst fears. The invaders were not just any pirates. **_‘Black Viper’_ ** and his crew were known not only as the most skilled, but also the most brutal, ruthless, and sadistic pirates to roam the seas. If Viper’s men found him, he was as good as dead.

So he was flooded with relief when one of the pirates said: “Guess Beez took everythin’ of value, let’s go.”

Feet shuffled and the men seemed to walk to the door, but then the second man spoke.

“Hastur?” he said. “Look at that.”

“What? The books?” the other scoffed. “I don’t care about no books.”

“You don’t. Dagon does. She’d probably take 'em with her. Sure as Hell wouldn’t throw 'em on the floor.”

Then everything happened so fast. The closet was wide open, so there was only one hiding spot left and the pirates found it easily. Aziraphale was grabbed by the feet and dragged out into the open.

At first, Aziraphale had thought about fighting back, but the idea died upon seeing the pirates. Leaning against Aziraphale’s desk and grinning down at him, was a tall sandy-blonde man with a boarding axe in his right hand. Directly in front of the scholar stood a handsome black man with long ebony hair, a bit shorter than the other, but with broad shoulders and a look on his face that made it clear he was not to be trifled with.

“We got a clever one, huh?” the blonde, Hastur he had been called, laughed. “Almost tricked us.”

“Almost,” Ligur smirked.

Ligur roughly pulled Aziraphale to his feet and dragged the scholar with him. He was forced out of his room and away from the safe life he knew.

*

* * *

The night had been good to Crowley and his crew, blanketing them in a veil of camouflage. The tiny island of Tadfield had been a promising place, full of small treasures and an unguarded library of knowledge. And it was a hidden gem indeed, the land had been carved by the ocean into a crescent shape surrounded by clear water. The city was placed in the center, old pillars and marble buildings worked with the nature around it, not against it. Despite Tadfield being a smaller island, it hadn’t been lacking in riches. Crowley’s dark ship, Eden, had been filled by the people’s _generosity_. As a pirate captain with the name Black Viper, he certainly had a reputation. He had taken a little more than needed, years of being out on the rough sea had allowed greed to enter Crowley’s mind. His men brought gold onboard, gold was what they were after, but Crowley had always been searching for something more. After years of obsessive scouting, he had finally found it, found him.

After the raid, Hastur, a trusted comrade, had found a few scholars hidden within the large library on the hill. They were taken aboard as more loot, as captives to be sold off when someone offered a decent price. They would head to a larger city next, trading in what they could and rewarding themselves for a job well done. Crowley had no use for slaves, but he’d been a hungry child before, he knew what starvation felt like, and he vowed to make money whenever the opportunity called for it. One didn’t become Captain of a crew of pirates by being soft. Crowley certainly wasn’t soft.

His golden eyes briefly scanned over the captives, watching them waddle across the deck with chained feet. With a closer look, Crowley’s body began to shake with terror and excitement over a familiar pair of blue eyes. He grabbed Hastur by the collar of his dirty shirt as he pointed over by the slaves.

“That one,” Crowley said, waiting until Hastur’s eyes followed his finger. “The blonde one with the blue eyes. Bring him to my private quarters.” 

*

* * *

Aziraphale didn’t dare look up.

“Do what they say and don’t attract attention,” Magistra Uriel had hissed in his ear when Aziraphale had been pushed towards her and the other prisoners and it seemed like good advice. From the pirates’ reputation he had expected to be killed on the spot, so being alive was a gift he did not want to waste.

Stoically he watched the feet of the prisoner walking in front of him. But despite his attempts to lie low, he must have done something wrong. Suddenly he was grabbed and harshly pulled out of the line. Shocked, he had to look up after all and recognized Ligur. The pirate raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.

“Always wondered if the captain had a type,” he said in a dark voice. “Guess now I know.”

“Go easy on em’,” Hastur suddenly appeared beside Ligur. “Viper said ‘no bruises’.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and he’s supposed to ‘ave fresh water, some bread and cheese, and clean clothes.”

“Oh! How ‘bout some champagne and grapes?” Ligur asked sarcastically.

“Well, he didn’t say that, but the night’s young, init’?”

Confused Aziraphale followed the men without resistance. They led him across the upper deck and pushed him into a luxurious but impersonal looking cabin. The young scholar was no expert on boats, but he was sure these were the captain’s quarters. He didn’t like this. He liked it even less when Ligur dragged him towards the bed. He was shoved down on the mattress and Ligur started to tie his hands to the headboard. Aziraphale began to resist.

“Unhand me now, you… you scoundrel,” he demanded loudly, trying to fight Ligur off.

But the man only laughed and held him down with ease.

“Scoundrel, huh?” he mocked. “I’ll cry myself to sleep later.”

Hastur was not as amused as Ligur. Worried, he watched as his comrade straddled Aziraphale and held him down.

“What’re ya doing?” he hissed. “Viper said to treat em’ well.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ligur growled back. “We already know this one’s smart. Can’t leave em’ in the captain’s cabin without securing the bastard!”

“Then tie em to the chair. He doesn’t seem to like the bed.”

“Who cares what he likes? I’m sure the bed is exactly where Viper wants em’.”

“Excuse me!” Aziraphale chimed in indignantly. “First, it is very rude to talk in third person about someone who is present! Second, you may be stronger than I am, but you won’t be able to tie me to that bed without bruising me all over!”

Ligur gaped at the scholar in a mixture of surprise and anger. But before he could say or do anything, the cabin door opened.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened as they fell on the tall man that entered the room. His slender form was dressed in a sleeved shirt and tight trousers, both made of dark linen, and a long black leather coat. The only spot of color in his wardrobe was the dark red waistcoat, matching the flaming hair that fell in long waves on his shoulders. The locks framed his pale but handsome face well, emphasizing the man’s sharp features. Yet what really caught Aziraphale’s attention was the man’s eyes. He was immediately captured by the deep pools, shining with the color of honey and amber, that gave away nothing but seemed to see everything. He knew those eyes.

*

* * *

“Leave us,” Crowley commanded, lifting a hand to solidify his order. Hastur and Ligur scrambled to their feet and hurried out, not daring to defy Captain’s orders. He never broke eye contact with the blonde, waiting until his men left before moving forward. His boots were loud as he walked across the floorboards, his steps calculated and powerful. Aziraphale’s face held defiance, but Crowley knew there was fear behind those blue eyes. He’d known fear so well, that the pirate leader could practically smell it. 

Crowley let out a long sigh before he grabbed the scholar’s chin, forcing him to look closer. The blonde tried to shake away, but Crowley's grip was firm.

“What’s the matter, Aziraphale,” his voice was rough and deep, just like the ocean. “Don’t you remember me?”

The blonde’s eyes widened after hearing his name, his pupils drinking in the familiar face of a long lost friend.

*

_Aziraphale was shoved roughly against a wooden fence while two older boys continued to tease. His scrolls and books had fallen in the dirt, and his own clothes were torn from the brutal handling. It happened often, the people on their island, Bethsaida, made fun of him because of his interests. Even Aziraphale’s own father would shake his head disapprovingly when he caught him reading._

_“You’re such a girl,” the brown-haired teen laughed. “Only girls like to sit inside all day, drinking tea, reading books, dressing with frilly things.” His friend tossed his head back into a dark laugh, loving how close Aziraphale’s narrowed eyes were to leaking tears. He was grabbed again only to be shoved into the fence once more._

_“Go on, cry, girly boy.”_

_Suddenly the boy holding onto Aziraphale found himself getting punched in the face. The blow had been so forceful, that the brown-haired boy fell into the dirt right beside the tossed books. A flash of dark red hair blurred in front of Aziraphale’s face before he realized another person had come to his rescue._

_Anthony Crowley was on top of the brown-haired kid, beating him relentlessly with his fists. His growing body was tall and lanky, but his punches were full of hatred and power._

_“Shit! Get off of him, Anthony!!” The kid who’d been watching reached to pull Crowley off, wrapping arms around his torso. Crowley looked like a wild thing, white teeth snarled in disgust, blood splattered on his face from the blows. Everyone who lived in Bethsaida knew Anthony Crowley. He was the bastard son of a wealthy doctor who had knocked up a whore. Crowley's father was never in the picture and his mother had died when he was ten, leaving the kid to fend for himself. Both Aziraphale’s bullies hurried away once they got the chance, too afraid to look back._

_Taking his opportunity, Aziraphale gathered his belongings, his heart clenching at their state._

_“I don’t know about the scrolls,” Anthony said. “But I think if you let the mud on the books dry, you can maybe scratch it off later.”_

_“Maybe,” Aziraphale said. “But it won’t be the same anymore.”_

_“No?”_

_“And some of them belong to the library.”_

_“Oh.”_

_For a moment they stood in awkward silence. Aziraphale did not know what to think of this interaction. It wasn’t like Anthony Crowley to do something nice. Or to be nice. The blonde remembered vividly how he had been sharing cheese and bread with some of the island’s orphans the day before, but when he had handed a piece to Crowley, he had thrown it right back into his face with the words “I don’t need your pittance, bookworm!”_

_So the reason for this rescue was beyond Aziraphale._

_“Why did you help me?” he finally asked._

_Anthony just shrugged, but Aziraphale had no patience for this._

_“What do you want, Anthony?” he demanded._

_Lightning-fast the redhead’s hands grabbed his shoulders and he growled in Aziraphale’s face._

_“Don’t call me that!”_

_“Well, it is your name,” Aziraphale said primly, holding the other’s gaze despite the intimidating posture. “But right now I can think of a few other words I’d like to use for you.”_

_That caused a wide grin to form on Crowley’s sharp features. He let go of Aziraphale and took his typical nonchalant posture._

_“Feisty bookworm, huh?”_

_Aziraphale blushed. He was not sure why. Usually, when someone called him a bookworm, it was spoken in a cruel harsh way. But Anthony had used it almost tenderly._

_The redhead sighed._

_“Anthony is my father’s name. My mother gave it to me when she was still delusional enough to think he’d leave his wife for her. So I prefer Crowley, my mother’s family name.”_

_Against his will, Aziraphale felt his face soften. Anthony, no, Crowley looked so vulnerable while he shared a little of his past._

_“Well, Crowley, I suppose I should say thank you for the rescue,” he smiled shyly._

_“It’s alright, you don’t deserve to be treated that way.”_

_“Oh, but I deserve cheese in my face?”_

_“Erm, no…” Now it was Crowley’s turn to blush. “That’s why I was there, well, here, I mean. I followed you because wanted to apologize.” He paused for a moment and suddenly there was a defiant look on his face. “I meant it! I can take care of myself! But you were just being kind.”_

_“Apology accepted,” Aziraphale nodded. “And I apologize for offending you with cheese.”_

_He immediately bit his lip. The teasing tone had come to his voice without him wanting it and he had no idea how Crowley would react to that so shortly after they had smoothed things out. But Crowley let out a burst of rare laughter. Not a smirk, not a grin, not a predatory smile. A genuine laugh._

_“You’re a weird one, huh? Angel and bastard in one,” he snickered and purred: “I like that.”_

_Aziraphale’s face turned very warm suddenly._

_“Oh. Thanks?” he said unsure. “Well, I have to go. I need to confess to Miss Potts what happened to the library books. I want to get it over with.”_

_“I could come with you,” Crowley said quickly. “Erm, you know as a witness that it wasn’t your f… wait, stupid idea. She’s more likely to believe you when you’re alone than with me.”_

_“I hate to say it, but you might be right,” Aziraphale answered sadly. “But… you could still accompany me. To… protect me?”_

_It felt weirdly right to speak those words and Crowley nodded immediately._

_“Yes. Yes, I could.”_

_For many years Aziraphale and Crowley cultured their unlikely friendship. They had more in common than most people would think. Crowley was not much of a reader, but he loved the stories Aziraphale told him. They both liked music and peaceful walks through the woods, away from those who did not understand them._

_But a dark voice in Aziraphale’s head told him it would not last. Crowley was ridiculously handsome with his captivating eyes, defined features, and his tall slender body. In addition, he was cunning, courageous and, if he wanted to be, incredibly charming. The young scholar knew quite well that Crowley was who all the adventurous stories were about. And Aziraphale was not._

_*_

“Crowley?” It had been so long since that name had left his lips, but it forever plagued his mind. How long had it been since Aziraphale had seen those eyes? The joy that bubbled on the inside of his stomach started to churn, the blonde’s nerves were starting to break.

“It’s me, Aziraphale,” Crowley’s voice had always been beautiful, and oh how he had missed it. The pirate let go of his face, but they continued with their staring, unable to look away from each other. Aziraphale felt tears threatening to spill, but he refused to let them. He hadn’t seen his friend since the day he left for Tadfield. Crowley never came for him, he’d never written a single letter. Aziraphale’s fear had come true. While he’d been away studying and learning all that his heart desired, Crowley had been off on adventures, and from the looks of it, had been doing well. The pirate's body had gained lean muscle, the boyish features were replaced with a handsome man’s face. Crowley looked beautiful, just as he always had, and Aziraphale had gotten softer, rounder, older.

“I guess you found the life you were looking for,” the blonde said, finally looking down at his feet.

“Hardly,” Crowley replied, his arm reached out like it was about to grab Aziraphale’s face again, but it dropped in defeat. “And you? Have your books kept you warm at night, angel?”

*

* * *

“I’ve never seen the Captain so serious about a slave before, he usually pays no attention to 'em,” Hastur said, lighting a cigarette while sitting on a nearby barrel. Beez came over and swiped the cigarette from his fingers, taking a hit and breathing out puffs of smoke.

“Didn’t think the Captain fancied boys,” she replied, handing the cig back to Hastur. “He must have a nice ass.”

“Well, probably, he must have sat on it a lot,” Ligur grumbled. “One of them smart people who use big words. He called me a scoundrel.”

Beez couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Maybe we should start calling you that. Ligur the Scroundel!”

“If you want to become shark food, go ahead” Ligur growled and after a while, he mused: “Just don’t get what’s so special ‘bout that one. Sure, he’s pretty, but not the first pretty one we ever found.”

Crowley had never shown interest in anyone before, so the gossip had started to spread like wildfire. It was hard to read what their Captain was thinking, no one really could get close enough to tell. Crowley had walls up, thick walls that kept everyone out. He was a good Captain but a mystery to his whole crew. Beez tried to swipe the cigarette a second time, but Hastur moved away with a smirk.

“Right, enough gossiping, get back to work.”

*

* * *

Crowley had wanted to reach out and touch Aziraphale badly. It had been far too long since they saw each other last. And he wanted to be mad at the blonde, he wanted to stay angry after Aziraphale had left without so much as a word all those years ago. Crowley had been heartbroken over it, had panicked over not knowing where his angel was.

He wanted to be mad, but when he looked at those blue eyes, he melted. Desire pooled in his belly at the sight of Aziraphale all grown up. His skin was fair and unmarked, his body had become plumper and round, and Crowley’s hands itched to reach out and feel him. His teeth ached to mark him, to show him just how much loneliness he caused Crowley.

“I guess you found the life you were looking for,” he had said, and Crowley’s anger returned. Aziraphale could be so cruel. Of course he hadn’t. There was no life Crowley wanted if his angel couldn’t be at his side. If the blonde wanted to play that game, then he would oblige.

“Hardly. And you? Have your books kept you warm at night, angel?”

This time is was Aziraphale who looked hurt. He abruptly stood up from the bed and stepped closer, until he was right in front of the pirate.

“When books are all one has, one learns to make do.”

“It was your decision.”

“My decision?”

There was a storm brewing in those deep blue eyes. A storm Crowley knew all too well. Aziraphale was a gentle soul, kind and caring. But if angered he could cut through the ego of the proudest man with his words. But Crowley would not back down. Aziraphale had left _him_. 

“Of course,” Crowley spit. “You finally caved and listened to those stupid people who told you I’m no good!”

“Those _stupid_ people who told me you’re no good?” Aziraphale repeated sarcastically. “Oh, yes, you sure proved _them_ wrong with the path you chose! ‘Black Viper’, cruel pirate, slave trader, a murderer of women and children.”

“Wha…?” Crowley gaped at Aziraphale, anger rising even higher.

It was true, Crowley and his crew were no lambs, but never had one of them killed an unarmed person, let alone a woman or a kid. Yes, they had made sure that rumors about their ruthlessness and brutality traveled along the coasts to intimidate the people. And maybe the rumors had gotten out of hand. But the fact that Aziraphale would believe him capable of that was another punch in the gut.

“Those are just stories,” the pirate said coldly. “Do you really think I would murder innocents?”

“How would I know, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked. “It’s been years!”

“And whose fault is that?” Crowley gave back.

“Hmmm, I can’t be sure of course,” Aziraphale pretended to consider. “But my money would be on the hothead who lacks any sense of responsibility and patience and therefore chooses a life where he can get everything he wants when he wants it without having to wait or work for it.”

Roughly Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s shoulders, his nails digging into the milky skin. A threatening expression on his features, he brought his face close to the scholar’s, their noses almost touching.

“Shut it,” he snarled. 

“Oh, am I striking a nerve?” Aziraphale said in mock sympathy. “How do you deal with your temper these days? You used to go into the woods and pout like a petulant child, but I suppose that is not an option here?”

“Really, Aziraphale?” Crowley growled out, unable to help himself anymore. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist and pulled him flush against his body. “Do you really want to find out what the cruel pirate captain does when you are ‘striking a nerve’?”

With satisfaction, he saw the scholar’s eyes go wide in surprise. A dark chuckle escaped Crowley.

“Did you just remember your position, angel?” he whispered. “Your cleverness, all those big words you know, and that sharp tongue of yours mean nothing here. I’m in charge here. You’re mine.”

“Crowley…”

“You had your books, but you left me with nothing.” Crowley backed Aziraphale against the cabin’s wall. “You may have forgotten about me with all those fairytales you read, but I have searched this whole earth for you.”

Crowley kissed the blonde like he was starved for it. Aziraphale let out a small gasp but welcomed the pleasure that burned from the contact. They had missed this, both of them. The feel of the other’s lips haunted them at night, creating a hole inside their chests that only the other could fill. When the kiss was broken, they both panted for air. Crowley’s eyes were blown wide and hungry, Aziraphale’s lips were swollen. 

“You can’t leave me again, angel. I think it’s time to remind you who you belong to.”

* * *

LEAVE US A COMMENT TO MAKE OUR DAY <3


	2. Chapter 2

_Summers did not last forever._

_The golden light of the late afternoon sun kissed the verdant green meadow surrounding the old oak in the park behind the library. The proud tree still stood full, but its red and yellow leaves promised summer’s end. A cool wind from the North passed through the grass and leaves, tussling the flaming red locks of Crowley’s hair as he leaned against the oak’s trunk. The blonde beside him caught himself staring at his friend once again, luckily before said friend did._

_Blushing, Aziraphale returned his gaze to his book until he noticed Crowley wasn’t reading. The redhead’s book had been opened on the same page for a while now and he alternated from passively staring at it and looking around the park._

_“What’s distracting you? Are you cold? We can go to mine,” Aziraphale offered._

_“Nah, your father hates me.”_

_“He sure does,” Aziraphale laughed. “But he always has. That never bothered you before.”_

_Crowley turned his head to look at his friend. His expression was thoughtful and concerned._

_“It’s gotten worse though,” he said in a serious voice. “Don’t you think?”_

_“H…has it? I couldn’t say,” Aziraphale said nervously and started staring at his book again to avoid the other’s gaze._

_“It has!” Crowley insisted. “He always was dismissive or rude, but lately he’s outright hostile towards me.”_

_Aziraphale shrugged helplessly. He couldn’t possibly tell Crowley about his latest conversation with his father. Not without making a complete fool of himself. Unfortunately for him, his friend was very perceptive and knew him all too well._

_“Waiiiit,” Crowley drawled. “You noticed it, too, right? And you know the reason.”_

_“Things have changed Crowley,” the blonde said hesitantly. “My father has always disliked you because he’s scared you are a bad influence.”_

_“I like to think he is right,” the redhead grinned._

_“A bad influence as a friend.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“But now…”_

_“Now what?”_

_“You know he listens a lot to gossip and rumors...”_

_“So?”_

_“Well, lately he thinks… fears… that you and I are… it’s silly, you know?”_

_“No, Aziraphale, I don’t know because you’re not making any sense.”_

_“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Crowley,” Aziraphale exclaimed. “He thinks you and I are more than friends! Apparently, he heard people gossip about how you and I always disappear into the woods together, and they speculated what we might be doing there. He saw that as an attack on my masculinity which – for reasons unknown to me – is obviously directly connected to his masculinity. And – as we all know – Aziraphale has no mind of his own which means, you made the poor bookworm do all this and so this all your fault.”_

_Crowley gaped at him and all at once Aziraphale felt his face turn red again. Embarrassed at his outburst, he lowered his voice and, hardly louder than the wind rushing over the scene, he murmured: “I said it’s silly.”_

_Biting his lip, he tried focusing on his book, but after a while, Crowley broke the deafening silence._

_“Is it?” he asked._

_Hesitantly Aziraphale lifted his head again, only to find Crowley’s face mere inches from his._

_“Is it not?” the blonde asked with a nervous timbre to his voice._

_With a tender smile on his lips, Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheek with his right hand and his thumb brushed carefully over the soft skin._

_“Does it bother you?” he asked. “The rumors?”_

_“No.” Aziraphale shook his head. “I just didn’t want you to feel… I don’t know, humiliated because people think you’re with me.”_

_Many emotions flicked over Crowley’s face now, the honey-colored eyes shining with a mixture of concern and anger. Several times the redhead opened and closed his mouth again but did not speak. With every passing second, Aziraphale found it harder to hold the intense gaze. But just when he was about to turn away, Crowley’s hand slid from his cheekbones to his chin. He grabbed it firmly but not painfully and lifted it up._

_“If you don’t stop me, I’m gonna kiss you now, angel,” he said, just like he had announced that he would steal Mrs. Pulsifiers fresh-baked cookies almost three years ago._

_Hypnotized by Crowley’s eyes, Aziraphale watched as his friend tilted his head and brought their faces even closer together._

_Crowley’s lips touched his and Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut. He felt long fingers tangle in his hair, a lean chest pressing against his own, a hot tongue brushing over his mouth. Deep in a trance, he just followed Crowley’s lead. A slight whimper escaped him as he parted his lips to allow entrance. The redhead didn’t hesitate to pull Aziraphale closer, pressing their lips harder against each other, increasing the pace of the rhythm they moved in._

_Aziraphale just let himself fall into the sweet sensations. He savored the feeling of the strong arms around him, the hot lips on his own, and the seductive scent in his nose. It was such a bittersweet feeling to be kissed by Crowley. Because he knew._

_He knew._

_Summers did not last forever._

_*_

* * *

“You can’t leave me again, angel. I think it’s time to remind you who you belong to.”

Crowley’s words had quite an effect on Aziraphale, even after so much time had passed between them. The pirate’s hold was firm, making the scholar feel wanted, feel desired. Their lips met again, sloppily pressing against each other like nothing else mattered. Crowley’s breath tasted like smokey, fine brandy and bittersweet memories. His heart leapt forward inside his chest, eager to be even closer to the pirate. Aziraphale’s heart longed for its home, and home had always been Crowley. But fear crawled its way back up the blonde’s throat, and the thought of abandonment caused him to shiver and pull away.

Crowley didn’t let him pull away. The redhead broke the kiss and stared into his angel’s blue eyes. Golden orbs studied his face like a hungry beast, challenging the blonde to try and run again. ‘Run,’ they dared. ‘run and I’ll chase you, you are the only nourishment I want, and I need to be fed.’

Aziraphale’s face was flushed and his eyes were hazed with desire. Why should he deny himself the pleasure any longer? There was only a second of hesitation before his hands hurried to unbutton Crowley’s dark shirt. All thoughts and fears fled once he caught sight of the pirate’s chest. Crowley had been busy indeed. Years of being a captain over the seas had chiseled his figure out nicely, his lean body teased a show of muscles each time he moved. Aziraphale found himself being backed up against the bed until he fell back onto it. Crowley hovered above him, tossing his coat and shirt off like he invented speed. A familiar heat pooled low in the blonde’s stomach, his mind started to supply memories of what it felt like being taken by the redhead.

He’d been faithful the whole time, only ever sleeping with one man, and that man had been Crowley. There was never any desire to connect with anyone else, no one could compare to the smothering weight of Crowley’s passion. Not even Aziraphale’s fantasies were a match for the real thing. Judging by the wildness the pirate contained, the blonde felt excitement in knowing their reunion would be rough.

It was what Aziraphale needed.

*

Crowley crawled back on top of his angel. His shirtless top pressed against the soft fabric of the blonde’s white robes. White was Aziraphale’s color, no doubt about it.

“I know these aren’t virgin robes,” he smirked, pressing a hot kiss against Aziraphale’s neck. The angel let out a breathy moan. “I’ve deflowered you ages ago, remember?”

Crowley certainly remembered. He had replayed those flashes of Aziraphale’s impassioned face, the moans from his lips, and the feel of his body each and every lonely night. God, it was tortuous that those memories were all he had. The pirate was going to show his angel why leaving him was a bad decision. The kisses to Aziraphale’s flesh became rough and teeth nipped at his skin. All of him appeared pure and untouched, and Crowley was going to have to work all night to fix that.

The slight shift underneath him and the tiniest thrust of Aziraphale's hips broke all of Crowley's control, or, what little he had to start with. The pirate tore Aziraphale's white robe until he was rewarded with the sight of the beautiful and soft body of an angel. The scholar let out a surprised gasp, but it was overpowered by the loud groan that spilled from Crowley's mouth.

Before Aziraphale could even think about complaining, Crowley pinned his wrists and sealed his lips with another kiss while he pressed their bodies as close as possible. Greedily he rubbed their crotches together, feeling Aziraphale’s growing interest against his own clothed erection. He needed more, what he really wanted was to be skin on skin with his lost lover.

Reluctantly he broke the kiss and jumped to his feet in front of the bed. He pulled Aziraphale up as well and the sorry remains of the white robe fell to the floor. Carelessly Crowley kicked it aside before he forced the blonde to his knees, pointing at his trousers.

“Help me with this,” Crowley commanded.

Aziraphale nodded silently and the pirate grinned. The little scholar had no business blushing so innocently. It was far from the first time he was on his knees, unbuttoning Crowley’s trousers and after all these years he was still remarkably fast. Soon enough he pulled the redhead’s bottoms down to his ankles, freeing the throbbing erection. Wiggling his feet out of the fabric, Crowley could practically feel the sarcastic remark dancing on Aziraphale’s tongue. He could hear him scold the odd necessity, or lack thereof, for wearing such tight pants. The blonde was wise enough to stay quiet, but his raised eyebrow teased Crowley nonetheless.

But that did not dampen the pirate’s mood. After endless years of searching, he had found his lovely prey and he was now kneeling right in front of him. Much rougher than before Crowley grabbed the blonde’s chin as he stepped closer, his dripping cock almost touching Aziraphale’s sweet pink lips.

“You know what I like, Aziraphale,” he said. “Or have you forgotten?”

“Hmm, maybe?” Aziraphale replied harmlessly, innocent blue eyes looking up at the redhead.

None too gently Crowley grabbed the blonde curls and glowered down at the scholar.

“Open that sweet mouth so I can fuck it,” he hissed dangerously and Aziraphale submitted.

Obediently he parted his lips and Crowley pushed in. He delivered slow but rough thrusts into the warmth, the head of his cock hitting Aziraphale’s throat. Soon he lost himself in the movement, his pace increasing with every snap of his hips. Groaning he threw his head back in pleasure while his hands held Aziraphale in place, the right still tangled in the blonde hair, the fingers on the left digging into a milky white shoulder, leaving red scratch marks. At his feet, his angel let out occasional whimpers, spurring Crowley on. All of his muscles were tense, every single nerve aflame and his whole body craving release. God, he had missed Aziraphale’s hot mouth, but there was another part he missed even more.

Moaning in arousal and regret, he drew Aziraphale away from his cock and pulled the blonde roughly to his feet. With another possessive kiss, he tasted himself on the scholar’s lips which sent a new surge of passion through his tense body.

“You better hope I find some oil or I’ll take you with some spit and a prayer,” Crowley breathed in Aziraphale’s ear before pushing him back to the bed. The blonde’s face flashed a look of shock, probably imagining Crowley opening him up with only saliva. But Crowley would never hurt him and he knew that Aziraphale was aware of that.

Crowley found what he needed in his old wooden nightstand and returned to the bed. Without further ado, he spread the blonde’s legs. Aziraphale’s lovely member was standing in anticipation, a little pearl of precum at the tip. Deliberately ignoring his lover’s erection, Crowley pushed a slick finger into the tight opening and Aziraphale hissed. With great effort the pirate went slow in his preparations, studying the luscious body spread in front of him.

The pale skin was flushed, the broad chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Aziraphale’s free hands started to travel their way across his soft stomach, hesitantly reaching for his own cock.

“No,” Crowley chuckled darkly. “You may not touch yourself.”

Aziraphale pouted and cast him a defiant look but remained silent. He was quiet until Crowley found that special spot inside his channel. As soon as the pirate saw the blonde throw back his head and moan loudly, he smirked and attacked the spot relentlessly. Delighted he watched Aziraphale frantically grab at the sheets for leverage, whimpering helplessly, moving his head from side to side.

“I’d better not find out that someone touched what is mine while I wasn’t around,” Crowley said darkly while crooking his long finger inside Aziraphale. “Or I’ll hunt them down and tear them to pieces.”

While his right hand continued to work his lover open, the left grabbed one of the blonde’s delicious hips harshly, forcing a surprised cry out if Aziraphale’s mouth.

“So? You have something to tell me, angel?” Crowley asked.

Wildly Aziraphale shook his head. Between his moans and sighs he choked out, “No one, Crowley! Never! Only you!”

“Good,” Crowley stated. Then he pushed a second finger into Aziraphale’s hole, thrusting, scissoring and swirling at a punishing pace, leaving his lover a panting mess.

With a determined expression on his face, he crawled on top of the blonde, pinning his wrist again.

“I’ll teach you not to run from me.”

As soon as the dark promise had left his lips, Crowley pushed in. Aziraphale’s moan was one of surprise, pleasure, and pain alike and his whole body tensed when the pirate buried himself inside his ass in one move.

“Too much?” Crowley’s tone was mocking, but for a moment his face softened to let the little scholar know that the question was genuine.

*

The feeling Crowley of entering him overwhelmed Aziraphale. It wasn’t just the thrilling mixture of pain and arousal that set his body on fire. All the emotions buried so deep inside him at once broke free. The pain of losing Crowley, the love he still felt, the longing to be in his arms again. And now he was in his arms.

When Crowley asked “Too much?” in that sarcastic voice, Aziraphale almost panicked. Because if he was being honest, it was too much. He hadn’t been taken in years and the burn of the stretch rivaled the pleasure. But he didn’t want Crowley to stop, nor find out if Crowley had become the kind of man who couldn’t care less for a lover’s comfort. It had been years after all, and he wished that this Black Viper, this Captain of a deadly crew, was still his companion from years ago, that he was still his Crowley.

So the scholar just shook his head, not trusting his voice. He forced back the tears that threatened to spill and focused on Crowley who now picked up hard and even movements. The redhead had not forgotten what he knew about Aziraphale’s body. He hit the blonde’s prostate perfectly with every thrust, chasing away the pain with more pleasure until pleasure was all he felt.

After a while Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s wrists, leaving a shade of purple were his fingers had gripped them. Creating a trail of bites and kisses on the blonde’s shoulders, Crowley made his way to Aziraphale’s throat where he scraped along the sensitive skin with his teeth. Aziraphale shuddered at the touch and moaned deeply when Crowley drove in for a real bite. Sucking and biting, the pirate left his mark on his lover, all the while pumping into his angel’s hole. He braced himself on his left arm and circled his right hand around Aziraphale’s aching erection.

“Crowley, yes, please!” Aziraphale practically screamed, he couldn’t help himself. He pressed his eyes shut, focusing on the sensation of Crowley’s throbbing member inside him and the calloused hand working his own cock. It did not take long for his body to shake. He arched his back and hot white liquid painted his stomach. Feeling boneless, he dropped back to the mattress, vaguely aware of Crowley’s smug chuckle.

*

Breathing heavily Aziraphale lay beneath him. But Crowley wasn’t done with him. Quickly he pulled out of the pliant body.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

But Aziraphale was still caught up in the afterglow and reacted way too slow for Crowley’s taste. Impatiently the redhead tried to maneuver the other on his stomach. Desperately grabbing the blonde’s generous hips, he placed Aziraphale on his hands and knees.

Without further warning, he slammed his cock back into his lover’s ass, unable to hold back any longer. Groaning deeply he delivered hard thrusts, grabbing every part of Aziraphale’s pale flesh he could reach. The blonde was sensitive now and keened with every snap of the pirate’s hips. But he didn’t have to endure it for long. After a few minutes, Crowley circled his arms around Aziraphale’s upper body and pulled it against his own. All of the scholar’s bodyweight impaled him on Crowley’s hot erection, his plump ass a wonderful weight on the pirate’s lap. With a deep throaty moan, Crowley climaxed, spilling his seed into the tight wet heat, his teeth biting into the unmarked side of Aziraphale’s neck, breaking the skin.

They were both wrecked, out of breath and painfully euphoric. Crowley’s bloody lips started to press gentle, sweet kisses all along Aziraphale’s neck and back. Admiring the work he had left behind on his angel’s gorgeous body. He carefully laid the blonde down on the bed before fetching a washcloth and some water.

*

Aziraphale was too tired and deliciously sore to keep full consciousness. Letting the pirate do whatever cleanup he wanted on his body. He could feel the hot cum leak out of his hole, and Crowley whistled like it turned him on all over again. The pirate used his thumb to press some of the spilled semen back into his entrance. Aziraphale probably should have been appalled, but he let out a content sigh, pressing his backside into the intimate touch. He heard Crowley hum in satisfaction and felt strong arms circle possessively around him. A long lost feeling of safety and belonging overcame him and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

*

* * *

The whole crew heard what Crowley had been up to. The screams and moans had been an entertaining show, causing the other pirates to cheer for their captain, clashing their mugs of beer together with laughter.

“That’s our Captain,” Hastur cheered, swinging an arm around Ligur who was fighting off a smirk. “Always knew he had it in ‘em. Don’t think that pretty scholar will be walking for a while.”

The slaves had also heard what had been going on. The scholars that had been alongside Aziraphale for years, Uriel especially, felt sick. She bit her tongue though, speaking her frustrations wouldn’t get her too far with a bunch of foul-mouthed pirates. She promised she’d rescue Aziraphale, help him back to his feet after such a traumatic night.

*

* * *

Just as the sun rose above the sea, Eden had arrived at Megiddo, the largest port for trade known to man. The city was raised like a stack of dominos, and towers peaked out above the tall walls that kept them safe from the raging seas. Aziraphale woke to a light shower of kisses that trailed over his whole naked back. He smiled at the wonderful feeling of Crowley’s lips, praying that the moment could last for a little while longer. The scholar sat up and glanced out the small round window, taking in the sight of the grand city they were nearing. Megiddo had been even more beautiful than Aziraphale had pictured, something one couldn’t fully picture from reading books alone. Crowley sat up from the bed and started to redress himself back in his pirate attire. A sickness weighed down on Aziraphale’s heart, and fear made his face pale. Was that night their last?

“I have to give orders once we arrive at the docks,” Crowley explained, making his way to the door. “I’ll bring you some breakfast.”

Aziraphale smiled at the mention of food.

“Oh, and angel,” Crowley turned to look him in the eyes. “I forgive you, don’t do something so stupid ever again.”

Before Aziraphale could reply, the pirate captain was gone. Crowley forgave him? What had he even done? The blonde started to feel that anger he had buried away last night. The anger of Crowley abandoning him for years while he was off playing pirate. Crowley forgave him? That should have been Aziraphale’s line! He wasn’t the stupid one! Was he referring to the hope the blonde had held onto all this time? Maybe he had been stupid for believing Crowley actually cared.

The scholar looked around the room, finding a set of clothes laid out for him of the chair beside the bed. He clutched at his heart, remembering the familiar pain of being left behind. Was Crowley mocking his pain? Aziraphale had been wrecked by the redhead’s absence, but Crowley forgave him? What if he hadn’t forgiven Crowley? He had been a fool to think they could go back to the way things were. A night of passion probably meant nothing to a pirate captain. Crowley probably had countless people in his bed, his mouth had probably kissed many people’s necks. He probably treated whores the same way, kissing them so sweetly, making them feel worthy. Aziraphale wasn’t special. If he was special Crowley wouldn’t have forgotten him in the first place.

He hurriedly got dressed, the outfit consisted of a loose white top and simple black bottoms. He rushed to the door stepping out on the deck.

The air smelt so fresh, and the salty water mixed with the heat of the city like a wonderful cocktail in his lungs. It would have been bliss to breathe in his first trip to the big port city, but his heart weighed him down. The ship deck was full of unfamiliar people, pirates with dirty faces and others with dirty expressions. He hurried down the wooden steps until he bumped into a familiar face. 

“There he is,” Hastur smirked, “Surprised to see them legs still work.”

Aziraphale hadn’t even thought about the others listening to their night of passion, his face turned red at the thought. Dear God, he hoped his friends hadn’t heard.

“Where are the other scholar’s being kept?” he demanded to know. Trying to take the subject off sex and heartbreak as best he could. Hastur eyed up the fresh marks left behind on the blonde’s neck. The possessiveness was clear as day to the crew member, telling him that Aziraphale would probably be around giving him orders from now on.

“Down those stairs, then down some more. There’s a long hall full of cells, can’t miss it.”

Aziraphale didn’t miss a beat, rushing down the steps without saying thank you like he normally would. Something about thanking a man who captured him and took him from his home seemed funny.

Uriel was the first to stand when Aziraphale came bustling into the hall. Her hands gripped the bars and she reached out to touch him.

“Aziraphale!” She called, her eyes trailed over the angry bite marks that could be seen even in dim lighting. “What has that monster done to you!”

Aziraphale knew she was looking at his marked neck, so he brought a hand up to cover it.

“No, it’s—” he was having a hard time admitting to his teacher that he’d enjoyed every minute of it. Every minute until reality punched him hard in the chest. They all saw him as an innocent scholar in Tadfield, and Gabriel and Michael were listening in too, and he didn’t feel like explaining his sex life to them. He felt guilty that he had a bed to sleep on and they were forced down here after most of the crew went to sleep.

“Once this ship lands, we are getting out of here, getting you away from him.”

Aziraphale wanted to argue, wanted to shout that if Crowley gave him the option, he’d stay in a heartbeat. But Aziraphale knew better. He knew if the redhead had actually wanted him, he would have visited, he would have written letters in return to the countless the blonde had wrote. He wouldn’t have left him feeling so empty all those years. He would have asked for forgiveness instead of saying it was Aziraphale’s fault. While he knew the pirate had made certain claims during sex, he also knew that it was probably nothing more than heated passion talking. Crowley had always been good at dirty talk.

“Okay,” he said, forcing a smile, trying to ignore nausea that built up at the thought of being separated from Crowley again.

Loud pirates busted through the doors, keys jangled as they unlocked the cell, ignoring Aziraphale standing there as he felt dumbfounded.

“Time to go, we’ve arrived at Megiddo. Viper‘s letting you go free for some reason, but we ain’t given ya a ride back.”

They roughly ushered the scholars out of the cells, walking them up the stairs back up on the deck. Aziraphale followed like a lost puppy. Unsure of what he was supposed to feel, what he was allowed to feel.

Uriel motioned for the blonde to wiggle his way in the center of slaves, hoping to blend Aziraphale into the crowd. Aziraphale didn’t ask questions, he just wanted off this ship, wanted a place he could bury his face into a pillow and cry.

* * *

LEAVE US A COMMENT, MAKE OUR DAY <3


	3. Chapter 3

_“You really want me to come with you?” Aziraphale asked incredulously. “Me, of all people?”_

_The beautiful black woman in front of him sighed. Her well-manicured fingers pinched the bridge of her nose and her dark-brown eyes focused on him._

_“That’s what I said, boy,” she answered. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I’ve been talking with you for an hour now and whatever valuable knowledge there was to gain from that sorry excuse of a library here, you’ve gained it.”_

_Aziraphale flinched at the jab against Bethsaida’s library. Before he befriended Crowley, it was the only thing that had made his life worth living. But compared to the places of knowledge Magistra Uriel must have seen during her journeys, it probably did seem pathetic._

_“But today already?”_

_“Look, Aziraphale, this is a great chance for you. I don’t want any money from you. Or anything else. I just want you to learn. A free education is not something everybody gets.”_

_Biting his lip, Aziraphale nodded. He knew that of course as he knew he wouldn’t get rich, but scholars were respected and their advice, teachings, and translations were a desired good. Maybe then he could help fulfill Crowley’s wish to build a life together elsewhere in the future._

_Crowley. Oh, what about Crowley?_

_His face must have given his thoughts away._

_“Is there a girl?” Uriel suddenly asked._

_“There is… someone.”_

_“A boy then?”_

_“Yes,” Aziraphale said carefully, but the woman in front of him didn’t look at him with disgust like most people. All of Bethsaida seemed offended when they spotted him with Crowley. “Well, he can’t come with us, but in a while – let’s say 6 months – I am sure, you can earn some money by writing letters for the people of Tadfield, translating texts or something like that. Then you can afford a passage back, bring him with you and provide for the two of you. Maybe he can find work in Tadfield, too.”_

_Aziraphale thought about it and it sounded like a good idea. The only problem was, Crowley had gone off into the woods after their latest fight. There was no telling how long his sulk would last. Crowley could sulk for days if he felt like it. He could come back in three days or three minutes._

_“He’s not here at the moment”, Aziraphale told Uriel. “We didn’t part on good terms and I can’t leave without saying goodbye and clearing things up.”_

_“Write him a letter,” Uriel suggested. “Can he read?”_

_When Aziraphale nodded, she continued: “Perfect. Write it all down, explain everything and tell him you’ll be back in a few months. Maybe some distance will help whatever tiff you have.”_

_“Maybe…”_

_Crowley did not return that day. With a heavy heart, Aziraphale placed the letter at their usual spot, a knot-hole in the old oak behind the library. With mixed feelings, he left Bethsaida. His heart broke at leaving Crowley, but it was a unique chance. A chance for both of them. He would do this for Crowley._

_To Aziraphale’s surprise, his father had not objected. Then again, it wasn’t a complete surprise. The man was glad to be rid of his “embarrassing offspring”. Mother had cried a little but wished him the best before pulling him into a warm hug._

_Aziraphale was optimistic. He would build a foundation for the future. Crowley would wait for him._

_Crowley did not wait for him._

*

* * *

Crowley had taken a while getting to the kitchen of his ship. All of his crew members had patted him hard on the back, smirking and making comments about his skill in bed. It made the pirate smirk at the praise. They all knew Aziraphale was his alone to touch, and he was happy to make that clear from day one. When he finally reached his destination, Beez had a tray laid out, giving him the best of what they had.

“For yer princess,” she had laughed, and Crowley took it with a smile. It was the first time any crew member had seen the pirate captain smile.

The redhead hadn’t felt so happy in years, not since Aziraphale had left him, but that was behind him now. He forgave his angel, he had hope that they could move past everything, and continue having passionate rounds of sex as often as possible. Crowley had a lot of catching up to do with his hungry libido. Aziraphale was going to warm his bed every night now. That thought had him horny and thankful all at once.

He twisted the knob and pushed the cabin door open with his body weight, careful not to spill the tea kettle.

“Angel, I--” Crowley stopped mid-sentence. There was no blushing blonde in his room, not anymore. He dropped the tray of breakfast and the glass cups shattered on the floor. Hot liquid poured out, splashing against the redhead’s leg, but he couldn’t even care.

“Aziraphale!” he called, his voice became weak and frantic. He checked the closet and walked around the bed. The clothes he had laid out were missing, and all that remained as proof were the torn pieces from the blonde’s robe.

“No no no no,” Crowley muttered it like a prayer, rushing out to the deck, swinging his door open so violently he almost knocked out a crew member. “No no no.”

“Aziraphale!” he yelled, and most of the crew heard it, stopping whatever they were doing to listen. They all looked around with panicked eyes, hoping to God the scholar would appear. They had been at the end of an angry captain before, and it wasn’t fun for anyone. Crowley’s boots made loud thumps as he flew down the steps. Hastur had made his way out of the main door, the wrong time wrong place. The redhead grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him into the side of the wall.

“Where’s Aziraphale!” he hissed, reminding Hastur why his captain was named after a snake. It took a few seconds for the pirate to realize Crowley had been referring to the properly fucked blonde.

“I-- I saw ‘em not too long ago,” Hastur explained. “He was, uh, askin’ to see the other scholars.”

Crowley let go of Hastur and stormed down into the holding cell hall. Everything was empty. Aziraphale was nowhere to be found. Aziraphale had left him again. No, he thought darkly. No, his angel couldn’t have gotten far. He’d be damned if he was about to let Aziraphale escape him a second time.

*

* * *

_“Stop yelling at me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “Your arguments aren’t more convincing if you deliver them louder.”_

_“They should be convincing enough for you at any volume,” Crowley hissed. “Your father hates me, the whole island looks down on us and nothing exciting ever happens!”_

_“Well, not everybody looks down on us…”_

_“Right,” Crowley said sarcastically. “Most of them look down on you and everybody looks down on me.”_

_“That’s not true.”_

_“This island is Hell! A boring Hell full of narrow-minded assholes! And you know it,” Crowley insisted. “Let’s just leave. You and I. Screw them. We make a new life somewhere else. A better life.”_

_“Crowley, at least we have homes here. Sure my job at the library doesn’t pay much and I know it’s rough at the docks, but…”_

_“Speaking of the docks,” Crowley interrupted. “I have enough money to buy a passage to Alpha Centauri. We can pack our things and leave.”_

_“And then what?” Aziraphale asked. “We’ll need to eat and sleep on that Island, too.”_

_“We’ll find something.”_

_“You don’t know that.”_

_“Have some faith, Aziraphale!”_

_Aziraphale fell silent. Crowley knew that meant he thought about it. But his hopes were shattered when the blonde shook his head._

_“No, Crowley,” he said. “That needs planning. We need to save enough money to at least get by half a year, in case we find nothing. Everything else is too risky.”_

_“That’ll take forever!”_

_“It will take a while, not forever.”_

_Drawing in a sharp breath, Crowley pointed his finger at Aziraphale._

_“You know what?” he said. “Forget it! Just cling to the life you know, no matter how pathetic and dull it may be. If you won’t go with me, then fine!”_

_He threw his hands up, grabbed his backpack and waltzed out._

_“Where are you going?” Aziraphale called after him._

_“Woods. Need some air,” he yelled back._

_Feeling Aziraphale’s sad gaze at his neck, he resisted the urge to turn around. He needed some time alone before he said something he regretted. In cases like that he went to an abandoned cabin in the woods for a while, sometimes hours, sometimes days to clear his mind. It was easier to make up with Aziraphale after calming down._

_Only this time when he returned after a few days, Aziraphale was gone. Crowley couldn’t find his angel on the whole island. Frantically he searched their favorite places, even checked the old oak’s knot-whole for a letter, but found nothing. Finally, he went to the house of Aziraphale’s parents._

_He was relieved when the lady of the house opened._

_“Hello,” he said politely. “I don’t mean to disturb you. Do you know where Aziraphale is?”_

_Before the woman could answer, Aziraphale’s father appeared behind her._

_“We don’t know where he is. He left the island.”_

_“What? To where?”_

_“He didn’t say. Said he wanted to start new somewhere else. Won’t come back.”_

_“But…”_

_“But what?” the man laughed. “The boy might be a wimp, but a clever one. You didn’t really think, he’d plan a life with you?”_

_Before Crowley could answer, the door fell shut._

_What followed was a week alternating between drinking and sleeping. When he finally came to, he could no longer bear the island. Not without Aziraphale._

_Aziraphale! How dare he leave him?_

_‘Oh no, angel,’ he thought. ‘You’re mine! I’ll find you, no matter how long it takes.’_

_With that thought in mind, he went to the docks._

*

* * *

Megiddo was a maze of people and shops. Everything was loud, serving as a small distraction from Aziraphale’s broken heart. His whole body felt sore from last night, he felt it with each step he took. Uriel kept eyeing the marks on his neck with a frown, placing an arm on his shoulder for comfort.

‘If she only knew,’ he thought. How was he supposed to tell her, that he had wished for that night to never end? How was he supposed to confess that Black Viper was the boy he had tried to make a life with all those years ago? He should have known then that Crowley wasn’t the settling type.

Lucky for them, scholar robes could still be identified, even if most of the white had been stained. Gabriel had managed to hide away his coin wallet, carrying enough to buy most of them a ride back to their island. But Uriel wanted to find the city’s library here and ask for help. Aziraphale felt guilty about everything. Knowing they were in this mess because of Crowley. There was no way he could admit that he offered his body to the pirate. Not when the damage was still so fresh. 

As always, Uriel’s contacts proved to be useful. It turned out that the head of the local library, a nice black-haired and chubby man in his fifties by the name of Arthur Young, was an old travel companion of hers. He’d been delighted to see her until he heard of the circumstances that had brought her to his doorstep. Unfortunately, slave trade was not illegal in Megiddo and the law didn’t really care where slaves or other goods came from. So Arthur did not see much hope to actually hold the crew of the Eden accountable. On the one hand, Aziraphale secretly was relieved to hear that since he didn’t want to be the reason Crowley would rot in prison or god forbid, be executed. On the other hand, it was a disturbing thought that someone could just snatch you up and legally sell you into slavery as long as they made it to Megiddo with you.

But Arthur was fast to assure them that they were safe now. Thanks to his contacts they were given quarters at the illustrious Megiddo University where they were provided with a bath, fresh clothes and a meal. The deacon himself, Thaddeus Dowling, promised them that they would be in no danger here and safe passage back to Tadfield would be organized for them as soon as possible.

After a nice dinner, Aziraphale sat in a small but cozy room. It was made for the needs of a student so it held nothing more than a narrow shelf for books, a desk, a closet and a bed with pristine white sheets. A small window offered a nice view of the ocean which Aziraphale normally would have enjoyed. But right now the thoughts awoken by the sea were painful. And yet he stared at the horizon where the sinking sun touched the water. As he watched the dying daylight dance in the waves, he wondered – despite himself – what Crowley was doing right now.

A soft knock startled him, but then he remembered that he had nothing to fear.

“Come in,” he offered and the door opened.

Uriel stepped in, her face much softer than he was used to. Guilt gripped his heart when he saw and felt her sympathy.

“Aziraphale,” she smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Magistra,” he answered. “Really, don’t concern yourself.”

Sighing she sat next to him on his bed, keeping a courteous distance.

“I just want you to know that I will help you,” she said. “What happened to you was… horrible! And it will take time to cope. You’ll probably need time before you will be able to talk about it, but if you are ready, I will be here.”

With a pained sob, Aziraphale pressed his eyes shut.

“Please don’t,” he begged. “I don’t deserve that.”

“Of course you do,” she said. “That was not your fault.”

“You… you don’t understand,” Aziraphale told her, swallowing his tears. “It… was Crowley.”

“What was Crowley?”

“Black Viper. The pirate captain. It’s Crowley,” Aziraphale sniffled.

“The boy who left you after you started studying?” she asked incredulously. “He did that to you?”

“No, I mean, yes,” he answered. “But I wanted that, I wanted it so bad. I love him. I still love him. But he doesn’t love me. I was so stupid, Magistra! I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you immediately, but I was so ashamed. Forgive me.”

He dared not to look at Uriel, staring through the window where the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the horizon by now.

His eyes widened when suddenly a small hand was placed on his shoulder in a comforting manner. Before he could react, the hand even patted it.

“Don’t be ashamed, Aziraphale,” Uriel said.

After a while, she pulled away and stood before him.

“Go to sleep now,” she ordered softly. “Don’t think of this man any longer. He’s not worth it.”

“Are you not mad?” Aziraphale asked.

“No.” She shook her head with a smile. “Now sleep. You need to be rested. We’ll get you away from him soon. Just forget him. Men like that can’t love.”

Defeated Aziraphale nodded. As Uriel had left the room, he undressed and crawled under the blanket.

**‘Men like that can’t love.’**

The words echoed through his head and sent a wave of pain through his body. Crowley was his first and last love, Aziraphale was sure of that. But being honest with himself, he had to admit that there had always been a dark streak to Crowley. A possessiveness about him that Aziraphale was usually the reason for. He knew Crowley had been severely wounded by his past, but the blonde had always wanted to be there with him, healing him as best as he could. Maybe men like Crowley couldn’t love, but Aziraphale certainly had enough love for the both of them.

_*_

* * *

_There was a pebble thrown at Aziraphale’s window, gentle enough not to crack the glass. The blonde put his book down and hurried over to investigate. It was a little before midnight, but the moonlight had been incredibly bright, bright enough to reveal a smirking redhead. The blonde opened his window to lean over the frame and smile down at him._

_“What are you doing here?”_

_“Come down, angel!” Crowley’s voice was an excited whisper. There was light shining in his golden eyes, and his smile was awfully contagious. Aziraphale shook his head, but he grinned as wide as his mouth would allow._

_“Give me a second.”_

_Aziraphale knew how to sneak out, his friendship with Crowley has influenced that, but when the redhead linked hands with his own, Aziraphale couldn’t be bothered. His lover’s hands were always warm, like he had his own personal heater at all times._

_Crowley led him to one of their secret spots on the island, a place deep in the forest that had a spring nearby. A few blankets were laid on the ground, and a wooden picnic basket sat in the middle. The sight made Aziraphale’s heart flutter like a hummingbird's wings._

_“What’s all this?”_

_“Come find out,” Crowley’s face was red, but his expressions remained cool. He tugged on the blonde’s hand to bring him over. They sat down, bodies pressed against each other to keep a nice warmth between them. The redhead opened the basket and started pulling things out. There was a bottle of wine and two glasses that Aziraphale hoped weren’t stolen, and a container of bread and cheese._

_“Don’t make that face,” Crowley said, noticing how Aziraphale was studying the wine warily. “I bought it working overtime at the docks. My whole life savings.” He grabbed it from the blonde and started to unscrew the cork. Aziraphale gave him his sweetest smile and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek._

_“Better be more where that came from,” Crowley murmured, reaching over Aziraphale’s legs to grab something to nibble. Before the redhead decided on a piece of bread, he gave one of the blonde’s thighs a squeeze._

_*_

_They both drank and had their fill of food. Aziraphale had started going off on one of his lectures about constellations. Crowley never stopped the blonde from rambling on, he enjoyed hearing his lover’s voice. It was a voice he wished he could hear every night, when he laid down for sleep. Crowley’s daydreaming had gotten even worse after turning eighteen. He could never seem to get Aziraphale off his mind. They had only kissed or hugged, and that had been enough at the time, but Crowley was a man now, and he had needs._

_He turned his head over to stare up at his angel, Aziraphale was still looking at the sky, pouring out facts from his lips. The redhead’s eyes began to trail down the blonde’s body, appreciating each dip and curve hidden by his many layers. God, he wanted him, just staring at his pretty mouth talking about stars was enough to give him an erection._

_“We’ve been together for quite a while now,” Aziraphale said suddenly, turning his attention to Crowley. The redhead brought his focus back to the conversation, nodding his head to agree. “And I love you, you know, no matter what my father says.”_

_“I should hope so, angel,“ he replied with a smirk. All his fantasies involved living happily ever after with his blonde by his side. Crowley was going to marry his angel one day, he just had to figure out where they could live in peace first. Bethsaida was hardly welcoming to their relationship._

_“I want you to make love to me.”_

_Crowley was so shocked he choked on air, sitting up quickly to cough a few times._

_“Are you—”_

_“I’m positive, I’ve been wanting to for a while now.”_

_Crowley didn’t need to be told twice. He moved until their lips were pressed together, snatching every moan and breath Aziraphale had to offer._

_The redhead began to undress his angel, his hands shaking with anticipation of seeing more skin than ever before. He had dreams about Aziraphale’s body, but had never seen the actual thing. He kept up with his kisses, some of them sloppily and distracted while he tried to figure out the angel’s many buttons. Aziraphale had begun lifting Crowley shirt up, pulling it over his head with ease. When they were both topless, Crowley pressed their chests together, letting his hands feel the softness of Aziraphale’s flesh._

_“You’re so beautiful,” Crowley said, pressing kisses all along the blonde’s neck and collarbone. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”_

_He felt Aziraphale’s light touches stroking the muscles of his back, tracing his lines like art._

_“I could say the same, dear.”_

_When they were both completely naked, they spent a few minutes staring at each other’s bodies, appreciating all the details. Their hands brushed over every freckle, every line, every imperfect perfection the other had, savoring the sight like they were in heaven._

_“I- I can’t wait any longer, angel”_

_*_

_Aziraphale wasn’t surprised that Crowley had some perfumed oil back in the basket as well. Blue eyes watched in anticipation as the redhead poured it over his fingers, bending down to poke at his entrance._

_“It’s gonna hurt a bit.”_

_Aziraphale nodded and slowly one of Crowley’s fingers pressed in. It felt so strange at first, and there was a slight burn, but it wasn’t unpleasant. A second finger made its way inside, filling him up more, creating more of a noticeable stretch. It wasn’t until a third digit entered him, that the burning pain started to hurt._

_“Shh, angel” Crowley cooed, noticing the pained expression on the blonde’s face. “You’re doing so well.”_

_His boyfriend’s praise definitely helped Aziraphale through it, breathing slowly around the fingers that opened him slowly. Crowley began to use his free hand to stroke the blonde’s half-hard cock. The redhead even put his mouth around the member, letting his tongue tease the top. A slight brush of the deepest finger had him crying out in intense pleasure. He could feel the fingers pull out, and Aziraphale watched as Crowley poured the oil over his own throbbing erection. He lined himself up, putting the blonde’s legs over his shoulders._

_Their eyes met, and with an exhaled breath Crowley started to press in. The size of Crowley’s cock was thicker than three fingers, and the burn was back, enough to bring him to a few tears. The redhead settled at the hilt, staying still to let Aziraphale get used to him._

_“You’re doing so amazing, angel. You took all of me, can you feel it? I’m the whole way in, love.”_

_Aziraphale smiled at Crowley’s praise, nodding his head and lifting his hands to run through wild red hair. Crowley started to rock his hips ever so slightly. The gentle pace was welcomed, helping ease the burn away. Soon enough his lover hit against that sweet spot once more, causing him to let out a sultry moan._

_“Again, please, again!”_

_And Crowley’s thrusts started to become more frantic. When a warm hand wrapped around his leaking member it was too much and Aziraphale came hard all over their stomachs. The loud moan and the sight of the blonde completely undone was enough to tip Crowley over the edge. Aziraphale could feel his boyfriend’s warm release filling him up, leaking out of him when Crowley pulled out._

_They both laid under the night sky, wrapped in each other’s arms, panting for air._

_“Crowley, that was—”_

_“Oh, angel, I’m far from finished with you!” Crowley said as he rolled back on top. Aziraphale laughed, bringing his arms around his boyfriend’s slim waist._

_“I have to get home.”_

_“I’m your home,” Crowley replied, kissing along the blonde’s neck. “Just as you are mine.”_

*

* * *

Uriel closed the door of Aziraphale’s room behind her. Here in the corridor she finally allowed the pained expression that had been fighting its way to the surface out. Not only had that pirate captain that had enslaved them all turned out to be Aziraphale’s unfaithful lover from his youth, but the brute had also violated him. And above all had done so while manipulating Aziraphale into thinking he wanted it.

Uriel knew men like that. Incapable of commitment but cruel enough to use those who loved them for a short-lived satisfaction and a rush of power. He had probably planned to use Aziraphale for a while and then share him with his men for a laugh. Maybe later sell him off.

No! That fiend would never touch Aziraphale again. Uriel would make sure of that. And if she had to pay mercenaries to guard the Tadfield library in the future, she would.

She started her walk through the streets by herself. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have risked leaving the safe walls of the university on her own. But she wanted the others to stay out of harm’s way and still say goodbye to Arthur, thanking him for his help again.

On her way back to the university, she suddenly was grabbed and pulled into a dark alley. Painfully her back hit the hard stone wall and her vision blurred. When this effect faded, she looked into the furious face of a handsome red-head and felt cold steel pressing against her throat. Behind the Black Viper stood two men she had gotten to know as Hastur and Ligur and waited for orders. But the usual smug smirk on their faces was gone. They were tense and apprehensive, glancing worriedly at their seething leader.

“Where‘s Aziraphale?” he asked in a voice as cold as ice. She could see the wish, no, the urge to possess in the golden eyes and she had to suppress a shudder at the thought. Sweet innocent Aziraphale had been at this man’s mercy for a whole night.

The pirate gave her a look that would make a lesser man – or woman – crumble. But she was not just any woman. She was smart, educated and widely traveled. Too many life experiences had made her tough. She had dealt with all sorts of men and she wasn’t about to be intimidated by one of them, even if that specific specimen was not to be underestimated.

She knew that her lack of emotional expression was a theme for a lot of jokes among her colleagues and students. But while she sometimes wished she was better at showing what she felt, it had its advantages. For example, it made her a good liar.

“Aziraphale?” she asked in a neutral voice. “The young man you raped? I don’t know. I tried to convince him to come with us, but whatever you did to break him, you succeeded. He was near hysteria when he told me he couldn’t come home with us. That he could never feel safe in Tadfield again. He disappeared. I hope nothing has happened to him.”

“Raped,” the Black Viper scoffed. “Aziraphale wasn’t raped, he wanted it.”

“Right,” Uriel said dryly. “A freshly captured slave in the quarters of his captors’ captain is the epitome of free will. I am sure you left him a lot of choices.”

For a second the blade dug firmer into her skin, then it was pulled away.

“We’re leaving!” She heard his yell.

*

* * *

The dark eyes of the woman gave away nothing. But Crowley knew better than to believe her fully. He knew what it must have looked like to others, to people who didn’t understand. It’s how everyone had always treated their relationship. Crowley was dangerous, he had never been good enough for Aziraphale. Everyone had always felt like he was a master manipulator who had roped the blonde into being with him. Nothing had changed. Why was he always painted as a villain? Aziraphale was the one who broke his heart! If his angel said no, it was a strong no, Aziraphale always made sure the whole world knew it, and Crowley had always listened when it was serious.

Crowley wasn’t capable of actually hurting his angel, despite how crazy he made him feel with all the disappearing acts. Aziraphale had wanted it, he had actively participated. He had been rough, but he had been rough in the past, too. Aziraphale liked that, or he had. Or did he? Or was it just Aziraphale feeling like he had to let Crowley do it?

Crowley’s whole body was trembling. He needed to find his angel. He needed to get everything sorted out. He wanted to demand answers, wanted to ask why Aziraphale had left him behind. If he really was no longer with the scholars, where would he go? Where would Aziraphale go to feel safe if not back to the Tadfield library?

Perhaps, Bethsaida.

* * *

**LEAVE US A COMMENT <3 WE LIVE OFF THEM**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Increasing chapter numbers? Noooo, you must be mistaking. We planned on 5 the whoooole time! Ahem.  
> Anyway, here is chapter 4. We hope you enjoy

Aziraphale’s whole body felt sick. His mind couldn’t focus on anything, and his heart refused to heal. Seeing Crowley had been his greatest joy and then his biggest heartbreak. It was like a repeat of their final falling out. No encouraging words from his scholar friends could bring him out of his sad state. He had returned to a clean scholarly robe, setting the borrowed pirate clothes aside. When he was alone, he would bring the shirt to his nose, taking in the subtle scent of Crowley on them, and his heart would ache even more.

Uriel stayed with him, trying to be supportive and kind, but nothing could console him. Only Crowley’s arms could do that, and he knew he’d never see his pirate again. The following day they were ready to return home to Tadfield, but Aziraphale wasn’t ready to go back. He didn’t want to be stuck at the library, polluting his work with his depressed mind.

“I think I’ll take a trip to my home island,” he said when they were purchasing boat fair. “I haven’t been in years.”

Uriel nodded her head, understanding that a trip home might do her favorite scholar some good.

“Shall I come with you?”

“No!” Aziraphale had replied a little too quickly. “No, thank you.” He wanted to bask in all the memories alone. He didn’t want another pair of eyes seeing his shame. The blonde wanted to visit their oak tree, he wanted to swim in the spring where they first made love. He wanted to soak up the phantom of memories Crowley left him there, it was all he had.

*

The sea rolled beneath him like a sleeping giant. The water glistened in the distance, like diamonds laid at the surface. Crowley hadn’t journeyed to his home island since he left it all those years ago. He had no reason to, after all, the only thing that kept him there in the first place had been Aziraphale. He wasn’t eager to return, his heart felt like dead weight within his chest. His insides felt hollow, like a gentle breeze could blow him over. Crowley wasn’t sure if he would be able to battle the ghosts of his childhood, but he had to try for his angel.

Crowley knew that Bethsaida was easy prey – if one could get there. Thanks to its very fortunate position the inhabitants never cared much about arming themselves against invaders. Not that there was anything worth a pirate’s time there anyway. Nearing the island from the North was not easy for a pirate ship. The Royal Army frequently crossed the passages around Crowley’s home island because it lay between their main offices, their recruit, and the training center. Due to natural obstacles, approaching Bethsaida from the East was close to impossible. So of course, the East approach it was. Part of Crowley thought that death by sea would be better than stepping foot on Bethsaida again, but he tried not to dwell on that. He was a good captain, and he had a good crew, a great crew even. Crowley trusted them, and they trusted him even when he wasn’t sure of himself.

With ease, the experienced crew circumnavigated the rocks and cliffs. They brought Eden safe through the narrow straits that formed Bethsaida’s natural protection. Satisfied, Crowley watched as the huge stone walls to the left and right finally came to an end and revealed the view on the island he had thought to never see again. At the moment it was but a tiny spot at the horizon, the sun sinking behind it. But nothing would stop them now. There was no going back now, there never had been, not after meeting Aziraphale. Crowley would travel to the underworld and back for his angel, and this was what it felt like.

Behind him Crowley heard footsteps. They were light, barely audible unlike those of his other crew members.

“Dagon,” he said.

“Captain,” she answered

Dagon was one of the two female crewmembers he had. Not much of a fighter, but a clever strategist and one hell of a navigator. She had one of the quickest minds he knew.

“What is it?”

“From here I estimate two hours, maybe less to reach the island,” she said. “I suggest we come to a halt here until after dusk. The map you provided shows a small beach at the northeast corner of the island. If your information about their security measures – or lack thereof – is correct and we land there, chances are they won’t even see us coming.”

As much as Crowley wished for the whole island to burn, he couldn’t do that. He wanted to see the fear in the eyes of all those who called him worthless, all those people who mocked him. He had planned to take what little they had, dangling it in their faces like a cat with a mouse. He wished for their ruin, but then Aziraphale’s words rang in his mind.

 _“Oh, yes, you sure proved_ them _wrong with the path you chose! ‘Black Viper’, cruel pirate, slave trader, a murderer of women and children.”_

And Crowley thought against it. He was here to win back his love, not make things worse. The pirate knew the blonde loved Bethsaida, even if it hadn’t treated him like he deserved. Dagon cleared her throat behind him, reminding Crowley that he hadn’t answered.

“Yes, let’s do that,” he grinned at her. “Good idea, Dagon.”

“Thanks, Captain,” she said but instead of leaving, she asked, “Do you think the man you are looking for is here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We grew up here together.”

“Oh,” Dagon said. “Feeling nostalgic, sir?”

Crowley let out a bitter laughter.

“Hell, no!” he exclaimed, but then he hesitated. His forehead wrinkled as he thought about Dagon’s question. No, nostalgia wasn’t the word for it. Though he was loathe to admit it, Crowley feared the island. He hated how small it made him feel, how insignificant his worth appeared there. “I’ll take two men with me by rowboat. Hastur and Ligur. They’ll guard the docks in case something should happen. If something does, they’ll give the signal and I want you to get the crew out of here. Leave without me, make sure Eden is safe.”

Dagon’s face flashed a look of sadness, and her mouth opened and then closed. He could tell she wanted to argue with his plan, but instead her voice replied “I’ll let Hastur know.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Crowley expected her to leave, but she stayed, side-eyeing him. Sighing he turned towards her, finding her face inscrutable, her ice-blue eyes focused on him.

“Something else?” Crowley inquired.

“So, you knew that scholar?”

“Yeeees.”

“The men are talking and some things... came up,” she said carefully.

“What do you want, Dagon?” the captain snapped at her.

“I heard that a woman accused you of raping him,” she burst out. Crowley flinched like he had been stabbed in his heart all over again. He stepped closer to her, his tall figure towering over her short lithe body. With narrowed eyes he stared at her.

“What’s it to you?” he growled.

“Nothing.” She swallowed but held his gaze.

“Then why do you bring it up?”

“I just wanted to say, I don’t believe that,” she said, averting her gaze to stare in the distance. “You are not that kind of man.”

Her words caught him as unaware as a punch in the face would have. When he remained silent and just gaped at her, her expression changed to her usual calm and collected one. He brought a hand up to her shoulder and patted it twice.

“Don’t go around saying stuff like that, I’ve got a reputation to keep.”

She nodded with a sad smile and returned to the crew to share the captain’s orders, leaving Crowley wondering if her faith in him was justified. What kind of man was he?

*

Crowley made his way through Bethsaida when the night was still young. His face was grim with determination and his resolute footsteps hit the pavement with loud thuds, stirring up the dust on the road. His eyes were fixed on the simple white half-timbered house. It appeared smaller than he remembered, with the black-tiled roof, but the closer he got, the more the confident pirate captain turned into the insecure boy he used to be. An angry loud and terrifying boy, but deep down scared to death of rejection, yearning for the blacksmith’s approval, for the confirmation that he was good enough for Aziraphale.

At last, standing at the stoop of the Fell’s home, he straightened his posture. His features hardened and he reminded himself who he was. The Black Viper did not fear a pathetic narrow-minded villager and his meek wife. He was strong enough to scare the whole empire into submission, smart enough to evade all the soldiers of the Royal Army and rich enough to feed all the orphans of this island and the next. He had proven his worth ten times over and would face the Fells and demand to see their son.

Nodding as if to confirm all this to himself, he walked up the stairway and resolutely knocked on the old wooden door. It was late and he was prepared to wait a while, the house’s inhabitants had probably gone to sleep. All the better. They would be too stunned to make up any lies.

But the door opened surprisingly fast and an attractive woman in her fifties stood behind it. Her blonde hair showed traces of gray and lines of age were drawn at the corner of her mouth and eyes, but it was obvious who Aziraphale had inherited his pretty face from. The woman’s blue eyes looked expectantly when she opened the doors.

“Finally!” she exclaimed. “I feared you didn’t get my… oh!”

Her face fell in disappointment.

“I apologize, sir,” she sighed. “I was expecting someone else. Can I… Anthony?”

Crowley flinched at the hated name.

“It’s Crowley, but yes, the boy that ruined your son,” he answered coldly. His mouth tasted bitter from the guilt that came with directing his anger at the woman. He knew that she was not the driving force behind the rejection he had felt in this house, though she had enabled it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a thin voice. Crowley now noticed the darkness under her eyes and the indications that she had been crying.

“I want to see Aziraphale,” he said firmly. “Get him, please.”

Suddenly a loud sob escaped the woman. She brought her hands to her face and soon her tears were freely falling.

Crowley began to panic. Had something happened to Aziraphale? Was he sick? Hurt? Or worse? The woman’s crying was so heart wrenching that it must have been something horrible. Without thinking further, he grabbed Mrs. Fell’s shoulders and shook them, ripping her hands away from her eyes.

She gasped in shock but kept crying.

“Where is Aziraphale?” he demanded. “Where?”

“I… I don’t know!” the woman wept. “I wrote him a letter to tell him to come home. But he is still not here. I know that he was not always happy here but under these circumstances…”

Frowning Crowley let go of her.

“Circumstances?” he repeated confused. “What circumstances?”

“Arden is very sick, Crowley,” the woman answered in tears. “He is dying. If Aziraphale doesn’t arrive soon, it will be too late. So many things unsaid…”

Crowley bit his lip. His sympathy for the woman made him swallow the comment that Arden Fell’s relationship with his son would be better if he _had_ left many things unsaid, instead of throwing them into Aziraphale’s face. The problem was that he didn’t know what to say in place of sarcasm. Or what to do now. If the woman was speaking the truth – and he was sure she was – he had come here for nothing. Aziraphale was not here.

Before he could decide what to do, a weak male voice sounded from the back area of the house.

“Maya?” Arden Fell called out. “Who is it? Is it Aziraphale?”

“No, dear. It’s… Crowley,” she said hesitantly. “You remember him, right?”

For a long moment, there was silence. Then the old blacksmith spoke words Crowley would not have expected to hear, not now or ever.

“I want to talk to him,” Arden Fell called. “Come in, boy.”

Crowley’s head snapped towards Mrs. Fell and he found his own surprise reflected in her face. But she gestured him in and he followed reluctantly to a simple bedroom in the back of the house.

On the right side of the sturdy double bed lay a man Crowley barely recognized. His face was sunken in, emphasizing the angular features in an eerie way. The once so muscular form was now a shriveled shadow of a blacksmith’s body. And the eyes that had glowered at Crowley so angrily were now tired and lifeless without any spark.

“Crowley,” Arden Fell croaked. “It’s been a long time.”

“Did you miss me?” Crowley asked sarcastically.

“Can’t say I have.” Weak laughter escaped the man, but then his face fell and he asked: “Did you come with Aziraphale? Is he on Bethsaida?”

“No,” Crowley pressed out between gritted teeth. “I had found him but lost him again.”

“Again?”

“Yes, I hadn’t seen him in years and our reunion was… short.”

“So you don’t know where he is?”

“No, old man,” Crowley snarled angrily. “You can die peacefully with the knowledge that Aziraphale escaped my evil clutches and lives his life without my bad influence.”

He wanted to leave and turned around, but Arden called out to him.

“Wait, boy,” he said. “I don’t want to argue with you. I just wanted to know if you knew where he is. I miss him.”

Crowley whirled back around. Seething he pointed his finger at the man.

“He missed you, too,” the redhead snarled. “Every time he needed a father to stand up for him, to encourage him, to be proud of him.”

In his rage, it took him a while to see the tears glistening in the old blacksmith’s eyes.

“I know,” Arden whispered, his voice breaking. “I wasn’t much of a father. None at all, probably. I owe him an apology. And you, too.”

“For what exactly?” Crowley sneered. Arden Fell had treated him and – worse – Aziraphale so badly, he wouldn’t know where to start with an apology.

“For everything,” the old man answered wistfully. “But my worst deed was breaking you two apart.”

Crowley let out a bitter laugh.

“I knew it,” he spoke. “It was you! You lied. You knew where he had gone. You had convinced him to leave me behind.”

With a pained expression Arden pressed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“I wish that was the whole story,” he said quietly. “Yes, I knew he went to Tadfield. But I could never convince him to leave you behind. And so… I decided to convince you that he _had_ left you behind.”

“What?” Crowley narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “What are you talking about?”

“The day that scholar, Uriel, took him with her, you were in the woods, after one of your fights, I think."

“I know that.”

“He wrote a letter to you to let you know he’d be back to get you and to live with you. When he left the house to bring it to you, I followed him. I saw him place the letter in the old oak. I waited until Aziraphale was gone, stole and burnt the letter,” Arden explained, hacking out a few violent coughs before continuing. “When the boy returned a few months later to get you, you were gone already. He asked around, but nobody knew where you had disappeared to. He still had hope you would return someday and I checked at the post office regularly. Martin, the mail keeper there is my friend and trusted me when I told him I took care of your mail.”

Crowley had been staring open-mouthed during Arden’s confession. Feeling as if all emotions had been drained out of his soul, he tried to process what he had heard.

“You destroyed the initial letter and intercepted all the others,” he summarized tonelessly.

“I did,” Arden nodded, tears rolling down the withered skin of his face. “And please believe me when I tell you that I regret nothing in my life more than that. I was hoping to see Aziraphale again to tell him and ask for his forgiveness. And for your’s as well.”

“Forgiveness?” Crowley asked quietly.

For a while he stared at the ceiling with a numb sensation somewhere in his heart. Then suddenly all his feelings came rushing back to him, like a tidal wave breaking, ripping him away.

“Forgiveness?” he roared. “Are you out of your mind?”

Maya Fell squeaked in shock and rushed to her husband’s side, trying to shield him from Crowley. But the pirate captain was blinded by his own emotion, unable to care for the woman’s distress.

“You took everything from me!” he yelled. “13 years, old man! 13 years I could have been happy with him! Thanks to you I spent those 13 years with a hole in my heart. 13 years of pain and you ask for forgiveness? I… I thought he left me and…” Realization hit hard. He had been in pain, but there was something worse. “He thought I left _him_.”

Crowley drew in a sharp breath and turned on his heels. Without looking back at the Fells, he stormed out of the bedroom and out of their house.

*

A late ship arrived at the docks and the two pirates on guard tensed. But it was no Royal Army ship and nobody else that meant trouble for them. Just a normal passenger boat. The two shady men leaning in the shadows of the alley near the tavern relaxed.

Hastur lit himself a cigarette and with a content sigh took a deep hit. Then he handed the cigarette to Ligur who thanked him with a grunt.

“Viper’s really fucked, eh?” Ligur smirked. “Comin’ all this way to an island with less treasure than my asshole, just to find the pretty scholar. Must’ve lost his heart _and_ his mind. That was more than a fuck.”

“Dagon says he knew ‘em as a kid. First love an’ all that,” Hastur said. “Lost sight of ‘em fer years.”

“Ouch.” Ligur flinched in sympathy with his captain. “And we let ‘em slip away again. Stupid.”

“Hey, we couldn’t ‘ave known,” Hastur insisted. “Blondie was runnin’ round free on the ship. Had to assume he was no longer a prisoner.”

“Hmmm,” Ligur hummed. “I s’ppose.”

For a while they fell silent, but suddenly Ligur whistled. Hastur followed his eyes towards the people leaving the ship. There were only a handful of travelers stepping out and Hastur immediately recognized the blonde in the white robes.

“Will you look at that?” he grinned. “Should we snatch ‘em?”

“Nah,” Ligur shook his head and smirked. “He’ll go to his parents and Viper’s already there. Let the Captain catch his prey himself.”

Hastur laughed lowly.

“Yes, wouldn’t wanna spoil his fun.”

*

Crowley stomped over the meadow behind the library towards the old oak. Automatically his feet had carried him here to one of Aziraphale’s and his favorite spots. His mind was racing. He clenched his fists so hard that it hurt, hoping to create enough pain to make a suitable punishment for himself. But there was no pain deep enough. Back then Crowley had gone for a sulk while Aziraphale had gone for their future. Letter or not, he should have known Aziraphale better. But finding his lover gone that day had kindled the tiny flame of doubt and self-loathing that had burned inside Crowley since the day he was born. It was so easy to believe he could be discarded by others, his own father saw to that.

_“If you won’t go with me, then fine!”_

His own words echoed painfully through his head. Harshly he had spoken them to his lover’s face and gone into the woods back then, expecting Aziraphale to wait for him. But he hadn’t done the same for Aziraphale. His blonde had always been patient. All those years his poor, lovely angel had thought Crowley didn’t want him, thought he’d grown tired of him. And then was forced to listen to Crowley graciously forgiving him!

With a frustrated cry Crowley slammed his fist against the proud tree’s trunk, barely noticing the pain in his hand. A startled gasp made him turn around. His eyes widened at the vision and for a moment he thought he had lost his mind.

On the meadow, a few feet away from him stood a beautiful figure. A beautiful soft-bodied blonde with milky white skin and stunning blue eyes. Those eyes were wide in surprise and shock, for a moment the men just stared at each other.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispered after an endless second.

That broke the spell. Aziraphale blinked, turning to the left to run towards the woods. On instinct Crowley charged and followed.

“Aziraphale,” he yelled. “Wait!”

It was a short chase. A chubby scholar trying to flee from a well-trained pirate, could end only one way. Crowley quickly caught up, grabbed Aziraphale’s robe and pulled the blonde towards him. With a surprised sound, Aziraphale fell backward, but the redhead caught him and pinned him against a tree.

“Did you really think you could run from me in our woods?” he asked incredulously. “I know these woods like the back of my hand. We came here every day.”

His cute nose held high, Aziraphale looked at him defiantly.

“Oh, I thought you may have forgotten,” he said. “Wouldn’t be the only thing you left behind.”

Crowley’s heart almost broke. Now that he knew, he saw the pain and anger behind his angel’s bastard façade.

“What now?” Aziraphale continued. “A quick fuck in the woods before you go on your next adventure?”

Instead of answering, Crowley kissed Aziraphale softly. No roughness, not even passion, just a tender touch of lips. When he moved away, the scholar’s eyes had fluttered shut and the blonde longingly leaned into Crowley’s touch. Tears had gathered in Aziraphale’s eyes when he opened them again.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” Crowley whispered. “I should have known, but I was blinded by my anger and hurt pride.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused Aziraphale tilted his pretty head and looked at Crowley inquiringly.

“Back then when you left Bethsaida and I came back from the woods, I thought you had left for good. That you had left me without a goodbye.”

“But, Crowley, I wrote…”

“A letter, yes, I know,” Crowley smiled sadly. “Well, _now_ I know.”

Frowning Aziraphale studied the pirate’s face. Still pinned between the redhead and a sturdy tree, he couldn’t escape, but confusion seemed to outweigh the fear.

“Angel, I need to tell you something and it will hurt you and you will be upset,” Crowley said softly. “But I need you to promise me that you will not run off and do something you’ll regret later, okay?”

*

Aziraphale furrowed his brows. He wanted to tell Crowley that he had no reason to promise him anything, that of course he would run away at the first chance he got. Well, at least he knew he should, but his legs were already weak against the pirate. Nothing in him wanted to pull away. Looking into Crowley’s honey-colored eyes, he realized that he would still do anything for Crowley. And the serious look the pirate wore made Aziraphale begin to worry.

“Alright,” he nodded. “I promise. I’m listening.”

Crowley smiled thankfully and took a deep breath.

“You wrote that letter to me, right? Explaining where you were going, when you’d come back and that we could be together then?” the redhead asked.

Aziraphale nodded.

“Yes, but I never got that letter, angel,” Crowley said with a pained expression. “Your father followed you to the oak and took the letter after you were gone. He burnt it. And all your other letters he intercepted at the post office. Well, to be fair, I wouldn’t have gotten those anyway. I never came back here until today.”

Aziraphale was in shock. Vaguely he noticed that he had started to tremble. Slowly he slid towards the ground along the tree trunk when his legs gave out.

“Angel? Are you alright?” Crowley asked in a panicked voice, sinking to his knees next to Aziraphale.

“My father did what?” Aziraphale asked with shaking breath.

*

Crowley helped Aziraphale walk back to his childhood home. His breath caught at the sight of it, the house appearing like the ghost of a haunted past. The blonde swallowed but kept his arm linked with the redhead’s for support. It wasn’t that he hadn’t believed Crowley, but Aziraphale needed to hear the messed up truth from his own father. His dad owed him at least that.

Before they made it up the last porch step, Maya had burst from the front door, arms outstretched to embrace her son.

“My boy’s come home,” she said, kissing his forehead with her thin lips.

“Hello, mom,” Aziraphale’s shaky voice replied. Crowley could tell the blonde was on the verge of crying. 

“Your father, hurry,” Maya started ushering her son into the home. “He’s not got much time left.”

Aziraphale took everything in like his life was flashing before his eyes. Their living had aged terribly, the carpet worn, and everything seemed like it shrunk. There was that familiar smell of baking bread and coal that clung to the walls of the home. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. The blonde went through the motions, trying not to break before he saw the final act.

He knocked on the old wooden door before entering, pushing it open to reveal a shell of a man. Aziraphale couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his sick father.

“Aziraphale,” Arden’s voice sounded so distant like his soul was already miles away. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry son. I was wrong.”

Crowley’s loud boots were heard coming from behind, the pirate stood in the room expectantly. Everything was spinning around Aziraphale, nothing seemed real. His body felt like it was made of glass and one move would shatter him completely.

“The letters, I--” Arden said, his eyes were staring at the ceiling, glossed over like a blind man’s. Aziraphale was a little happy he couldn’t see him. He didn’t want his father to see his tears, Arden had always made fun of him for being emotional. “They’re all in my desk. All of them. I‘m sorry. I should have loved you, I should have let you be loved.”

Maya was sobbing in the doorway, her sniffles were fueling Aziraphale’s own. His face was soaked with silent tears. Crowley came closer, placing his hands firmly on Aziraphale’s shaking arms.

“I know you might not forgive me,” Arden said. “But I am sorry. And Crowley? Please take care of my son.”

There were a few short breaths that escaped Arden’s mouth and then his breathing stopped completely.

“Dad?” Aziraphale called, panicked. He rushed to the bed, but the small lights that had been in the old man’s eyes were blown out. He had passed, and then Aziraphale finally let himself weep.

“I didn’t get to tell him!” he said, reaching out to grab his dead father’s hand. “I didn’t get to tell him I waited my whole life for an apology! Now that he gave it to me I-- I don’t want it anymore. It hurts.” Maya rushed into the room, throwing herself on her husband’s cold body.

Crowley’s body jerked at his angel’s hurt confession, pacing a few steps, unsure of how to comfort him. Yet, when Aziraphale felt the hesitant and warm hands of his pirate press against his back, he jumped up to bury himself into those arms. And Crowley held him, tightly and secure and Aziraphale didn’t want to leave those arms. The pain of his lonely 13 years and the death of his father made him feel everything and nothing all at once. But Crowley’s embrace was like the eye of the storm while everything around him fell to pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave us a comment and share your thoughts! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The fifth and final chapter of "Sail home to me". Thank you to everybody for reading and for leaving us all the kind and encouraging comments.  
> We hope you all like the finale of this story!
> 
> And I want to thank Sadwendigo for the collab. You are a great writer and a wonderful person and it was awesome working with you!  
> \- UnproblematicMe
> 
> If you don’t write another collab with me in the future I’ll cry!  
> -Sadwendigo

“That was a wonderful idea, dear,” Aziraphale sighed happily.

Crowley was blinded by the blonde’s smile, ridiculously pleased that he had contributed to his well-being. Even if only by suggesting a walk through the woods.

“I take it, you feel better?” the redhead asked just as they arrived at a small clearing.

“In fact I do.” Aziraphale came to a halt and took a deep breath. “Everything at home reminds me of father and everyone on the island floods me with sympathy, and therefore reminds me of father too. But here? Peace, silence and fresh air.”

With a happy wiggle, Aziraphale gestured around the clearing before he started walking again. After a while they heard water bubbling somewhere behind the trees and Crowley saw a blush creep across Aziraphale’s cheeks. Crowley soon realized why. They were passing the little noisy spring near the spot they had made love for the first time.

Aziraphale surprised Crowley by changing direction, going towards the water instead of quickly passing by. But the redhead was still unsure where their relationship was standing.

After Arden Fell had passed, Aziraphale wrote to Uriel about what had happened, informing her that he would stay with his mother for a while. Miss Potts was happy to have him help her out at the library to earn some money. Crowley was still of the firm opinion that he could have paid for everything they needed, but Aziraphale deeply missed the Tadfield library and being around books the whole day helped take his mind off things. Outside his work the blonde kept away from the people in Bethsaida, his mother took care of most errands.

Crowley, on the other hand, loved to walk among them in fine clothing, wearing expensive perfume, showing off his wealth. It was satisfying to have them come running, ready to lick the boots of the foreign rich man. He loved to watch their expressions turn into a delicious amalgam of shock and envy when they recognized him as the boy they had treated like dirt in the past.

Unnerving Bethsaidians distracted him from worrying about his ship too. Of course, he knew that the Eden and her crew were in good hands. Hastur would not let anything happen to them – they would happen to everyone. But Crowley couldn’t help feel responsible for their safety.

But everything paled in comparison to his concerns for Aziraphale. And so he was relieved to find that the grieving process his beloved went through – painful as it was – seemed to run a normal course. Now that a few weeks had passed, he was smiling more often and more genuine again, enjoying food and wine – and agreeing to a walk in the woods with Crowley.

Their relationship, however, seemed to hang in the air somehow. Crowley hadn’t touched Aziraphale since their chaste kiss after reuniting on Bethsaida. There were innocent brushes against his hands or arms to either help him or get his attention, but nothing more. They hadn’t talked about what had happened between them on the Eden either. Crowley didn’t want to pressure Aziraphale, but it was hard to have his only desire right in front of his eyes, keeping his hands to himself. Crowley fought the urge to snatch his lover and hide him away from all other eyes, but he controlled himself.

Now they walked to their secret place, the blonde in front and Crowley only a few steps behind. When the redhead caught up, Aziraphale’s shoulders were slumped as he looked around the spot of soft grass underneath a willow tree.

“Angel?” Crowley carefully touched the blonde’s upper arm to make him look at him.

When Aziraphale turned to him, a wistful expression had taken over his pretty face. Aziraphale only held Crowley’s gaze for a few seconds, then turned his eyes to the ground.

“We were very happy, weren’t we?” he asked quietly.

The question surprised Crowley, unnecessary as it was.

“I was,” he answered. “I hope you were, too.”

Aziraphale nodded, biting his lip, his body shaking slightly. Now Crowley could no longer hold himself back. Not when his angel was crying. He grabbed Aziraphale’s shoulders and pulled the blonde’s back against his chest, holding him tight.

“Angel,” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Crowley!” Aziraphale wiggled to turn around in Crowley’s embrace and pressed his head against the pirate’s chest. “I was so angry because I thought you had left me.”

“Well, I had,” Crowley said regretfully. “I didn’t know your plans.”

“I should have made sure you got the letter. I was so stupid,” Aziraphale scolded himself. “I should have brought it to your place. Silly me, I had wanted a romantic gesture. As if an oak hole is a safe place for something so important.”

“If I hadn’t left you alone for days, you wouldn’t have had to write a letter in the first place,” Crowley murmured into the angel’s soft hair.

“I should have stayed.”

“No!” Crowley said firmly, pulling back a little and forcing the blonde to look at him. “You were offered a great and unique chance. Not something to throw away for a stupid lover who was pouting in the woods.”

“It was a great chance,” Aziraphale agreed. “But not worth losing you. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not! Your father destroyed the letter and I was silly enough to think you’d leave me without a goodbye,” Crowley insisted.

Sighing Aziraphale closed his eyes.

“Let’s stop playing the blame game, dear,” he suggested. “It’s painful to think how much time we lost, but arguing over whose fault it was, won’t give us back those years, it will only waste more time.”

Hopeful the blonde smiled at Crowley and the pirate couldn’t help but do the same. Aziraphale was so beautiful and finally seeing sparks of happiness again in those deep blue eyes was a great relief. The redhead really wanted to kiss the wonderful creature in his arms, but didn’t dare, fearing he’d go too fast. But when Aziraphale slowly tilted his head and lifted his chin to bring his lips closer to Crowley’s, there was no doubt left about his intentions. All too happy to oblige, the pirate leaned down to meet his angel halfway.

Very careful he let his lips move with his lover’s while his hands tenderly slid down Aziraphale’s back. The blonde sighed pleasurably and sank into Crowley’s arms.

The pirate suppressed the possessive growl that was rising in his throat. He wanted to push Aziraphale down into the grass, rip off his clothes and mark the soft white body in purple and red with teeth and nails. He wanted to make him his again, take him wildly here and now.

But no! He would not mess this up! Never would he hurt Aziraphale again or pressure him into doing something he didn’t want or only wanted for Crowley’s sake. So he contented himself with innocent kissing. With great effort he even held back his curious tongue that wanted nothing more than to push into Aziraphale’s sweet mouth to seek out its counterpart.

It was hard. It was like handing a bottle of freshwater to a parched man in the desert, telling him to only take tiny sips. But Crowley could do that. For Aziraphale he could do anything.

*

Aziraphale felt almost delirious with happiness. Neither pain nor time had destroyed what was between them. With a content sigh, he let his body go pliant in his pirate’s arms, signaling to the redhead that Aziraphale was his again, no, that he had always been.

Crowley kissed him sweet and slow. _Very sweet. And very slow_. And nothing escalated beyond that like Aziraphale hoped as the minutes went by.

The blonde pressed himself tighter against Crowley, bucked his hips subtly and moaned into their kiss. But the redhead would neither pick up his pace nor tighten his grip. Confused, Aziraphale disentangled from the embrace – which was surprisingly easy – and let himself fall into the soft grass, but not without grabbing Crowley’s shirt and pulling the redhead on top of himself.

With a smile Crowley resumed the tender kiss while his hands carefully roamed over Aziraphale’s chest. Very loving, very affectionate but without any of the usual fire. Doubt crept into Aziraphale’s mind. Had the one night of passion on the Eden sated all the desire that had built up in Crowley? Had he, in the dim light of the captain’s cabin, not seen the changes time had made on Aziraphale’s body? But now, here with the bright light of day falling through the trees, was it obvious how much rounder and older he was than 13 years ago? Did his appearance put a damper on Crowley’s usual vigor?

“Crowley, say you love me,” he said, needing to feel reassured due to the pirate’s lack of passion.

“I love you, angel. You know I do.” The redhead pressed soft kisses all over the scholar’s face. Aziraphale smiled at Crowley’s honest words. He could feel the love in the heat that radiated off the pirate’s body, he could see the depths of it in his golden eyes. He tugged on Crowley’s collar and pulled him down for a rough kiss. There was a soft growl released into his mouth, but soon the redhead’s kisses went back to being safe. Aziraphale broke the kiss, feeling annoyed with his partner, craving his usual possessive and rough passion.

“Have I become unattractive to you?”

“God no!” Crowley’s eyes widened, and his hands moved down to roughly squeeze the blonde’s plump ass. Aziraphale moaned at the grip, but then the pirate’s hands let go, and were back stroking his face. “You tempt me more than ever. It’s hard to keep my hands off you with that dangerous behind you have. Finest jewel in all the world.”

“Why are you holding back?”

“I- isn’t that what you want?” Crowley’s voice sounded confused. “I was pretty rough on our first reunion. People were appalled by my lack of control. That one scholar woman accused me of rape.”

Aziraphale’s heart broke at that. He wrapped his arms around his pirate’s neck, pressing a reassuring kiss to his temple.

“Oh, Crowley,” he waited until the pirate looked into his eyes. “You’ve never taken advantage of me. I wanted you every time. Never doubt that! Even that night on the ship! I need you so bad, Crowley. You don’t have to hold back. If I wasn’t on board with something, I’d tell you.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley’s voice was soft and breathy. The scholar pressed his lips against the redhead’s, emphasizing his point.

The point came across.

A fracture of a second later, Crowley‘s eager tongue was pushed into Aziraphale‘s mouth, exploring and conquering. The bruising kiss left the blonde breathless when his pirate finally broke it. As if to make up for his earlier hesitation, Crowley undressed Aziraphale faster than the scholar could process it. Before he knew it, his clothes laid beside him as a pile of crumpled fabric. His manhood, however, had followed the recent events with great interest and was standing at half attention. 

His gaze fell on the pirate who greedily let his eyes wander over Aziraphale‘s body, drinking in every detail. The scholar‘s arousal grew and his breath hitched as he saw the desire in Crowley‘s face. Quickly the pirate rid himself of his own clothes, but when he was as naked as his lover, the redhead‘s expression changed.

“Dammit,” he cursed. “I don’t have any lubrication, angel.”

Aziraphale blushed.

“I... I have,” he stuttered and nodded towards his clothes. “My belt pocket.” 

Crowley shot him a dirty grin. He crawled over to the pile of clothes and opened the belt pocket. Quickly he found what he was looking for and returned to his lover. Triumphantly he let the little jar dangle in front of the blonde’s nose.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he teased. “Does sweet innocent little Aziraphale have dirty intentions?”

“May... maybe,” Aziraphale smiled, a little flustered.

“Tsk, tsk,” Crowley said. “A smart one like you should know better than to play with fire.”

With that, he drew Aziraphale into another rough kiss before positioning himself between his lover’s sturdy legs. He pushed the thick thighs apart and opened the jar. After lubing up his fingers, he looked at Aziraphale with wide-blown pupils.

“I’ll show you what pretty little scholars get when they follow dangerous pirates into the woods, basically offering their enticing ass,” he said darkly and pushed a finger into Aziraphale’s opening without further warning.

But the gasp falling from Aziraphale’s lips was one of pleasure since Crowley had immediately found the right spot. The redhead was very pleased with himself and smirked, repeating the motion several times. Aziraphale writhed and moaned in pleasure. His cock was now fully erect, desperate to be touched, but the blonde knew better than to do that without permission. With a pleading face, he bucked his hips to signal his need.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Crowley chuckled darkly. “Will you beg, angel? Will you beg for more?”

“Yes, please! I’ll do anything!” Aziraphale was quick to exclaim. “Just please don’t stop!”

Careful but with determination Crowley pushed in a second finger and started to make room for something bigger.

“Believe me, angel,” he purred. “Stopping is the last thing on my mind.”

Despite Aziraphale’s pleading, begging and whining to “Get on with it already”, Crowley took his sweet time preparing his partner, visibly enjoying the wanton moans, desperate pleas, and frantic movements. He sucked on the trembling thighs, leaving marks behind as he stretched his angel open. When he finally deemed Aziraphale ready, he covered the scholar’s body with his own and gripped the blonde hair.

“You haven’t forgotten who is in charge here, have you?”

Aziraphale shook his head, “No.”

“Or who you belong to?”

“Never,” Aziraphale whispered.

“Good!”

With a low moan and a harsh snap of his hips, Crowley pushed his hard cock into Aziraphale’s tight wet hole. The blonde cried out in pleasure and dug his nails into the flesh of Crowley’s back. The redhead hissed and in retaliation pulled Aziraphale’s head back by his hair, baring the sensitive throat. He bit down hard and sucked. Possessively he eyed the bruise and it was like a dam breaking. Growling, he started to fuck Aziraphale in earnest. His nails and teeth left new marks on the scholar’s skin where the old ones had faded.

“You’re mine, angel!” he breathed out during his frantic movements. “Mine alone and I’ll never let you go again.”

“Crowley!”

The pirate pushed himself up, changing the angle, hitting Aziraphale’s special spot with precision. Braced on his right arm, he started to pump Aziraphale’s member with his left hand in sync with his vicious thrusts. His eyes looked over all the marks left of his angel’s pale skin, and Crowley couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Come for me, Aziraphale,” he ordered hoarsely.

Overwhelmed by the sensations and emotions, Aziraphale could only obey. He wailed, threw his head back in pleasure and climaxed, the evidence hot and wet on his stomach. His body tensed, hugging Crowley tighter, drawing the orgasm out of the redhead as well.

Wildly Crowley rode out the peak of his pleasure before he collapsed on Aziraphale with a content sigh.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt that again.”

*

Uriel walked down the dock of Alpha Centauri Island, books in hand. Aziraphale had given her directions to his new home and she finally had the time to visit. She had only been to Alpha Centauri once before, but its beauty still surprised her. The water that surrounded the island came in waves of color, showing different hues of clear blues and even some soft violet. The trees were tall and danced in the subtle breeze that carried the scent of apples. Apples seemed to be the native fruit on the island.

Uriel followed Aziraphale’s instructions, walking to a path in the woods right before the town. Birds sang above her as she continued, keeping her eyes peeled for a cottage. In the distance she spotted a nice sized home tucked within the forest. A garden of flowers surrounded it, all kept within the safety of a white fence. Uriel smiled, stepping closer until she saw a familiar head of red hair on the other side of the cottage. The pirate had his shirt off, sweat rolled down his body as he worked, clipping the hedges in the garden. His muscles flexed with each snap of the cutters and even Uriel thought him attractive. He had cut his hair she noticed, but suddenly she felt ashamed to look him in the face. Aziraphale had written her letters, explaining the whole situation, and Uriel felt guilty about calling the man a rapist.

As if feeling eyes on him, Crowley turned around, his own eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Her body straightened and waited for him to throw a nasty remark, but instead, he turned to knock on the glass window. He waved for her to come in, but she hesitated.

A few minutes later and Aziraphale came out on the porch with a bowtie round his neck and a smile brighter than the sun. He practically glowed, radiating happiness and contentment proving that the pirate had been taking good care of him.

“Uriel!” he called, waving her to hurry past the fence and come inside.

*

The inside of their home was filled with bookshelves and potted plants. There were large windows on all sides, letting in natural light seep into every corner. Aziraphale smiled at his old teacher, happy she had made the trip to his island safely.

“You seem well,” she said with a smile. Aziraphale nodded, his eyes moving to look out the window at a shirtless Crowley. The pirate noticed his partner was staring and smirked at Aziraphale after blowing a kiss.

“The happiest I’ve been,” the blonde answered honestly. He looked away from the window down to the gold ring on his finger. They had gotten married shortly after moving here, Crowley’s wedding gift for Aziraphale had been the cottage. And what a gift it was.

Uriel nodded, reaching to hand over a gift she brought for him. Aziraphale smiled, already knowing they were books. He unwrapped the paper around them, thanking her again and again. They were first editions about prophecy, books he had always wanted to read. He hugged her tightly, setting the books to the side after carefully examining each one.

Crowley came inside the cottage then, bending down at the door to take his boots off. It was one of Aziraphale’s rules, and Crowley always did his best to please him. He used the towel that hung around his neck to wipe off the sweat on his torso. The pirate let out a sigh, moving into the den where the two sat, plopping down on a chair beside the blonde.

“Good of you to join us,” Aziraphale teased, pressing a kiss on his husband’s salty forehead.

“Mn,” Crowley made a noise as a reply. Reaching to pull the blonde back in for a kiss. Uriel had never seen so much love between two people, especially not with the job she had. Her eyes traveled to the silver wedding ring that wrapped around the pirate’s finger.

“What happened to your ship?” Uriel asked, curious about where Eden was.

“Gave it to my second in command,” he answered. “Didn’t need to go searching anymore. I found my treasure.”

The redhead reached for his husband’s hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Aziraphale blushed, unable to help himself. Crowley always was a smooth talker. The blonde had been surprised when Crowley had passed his captain hat to Hastur. The whole crew had been teary-eyed about seeing Black Viper retire, but Aziraphale could tell they were happy for him. Sometimes the Eden would find her way to Alpha Centauri and Crowley would host parties at the cottage, drinking excessive amounts of alcohol with his old crew. Aziraphale was glad for those nights, he was always glad to see his husband smile.

Uriel’s visit had been quick, but the blonde was grateful she came to visit at all. He walked with her to the dock, waving goodbye as the ship sailed away.

By the time Aziraphale made it back home, Crowley was sitting on their bed, reading. When the blonde stepped further into their bedroom, he could tell the pirate had been rereading the old letters again. After Arden’s death Crowley had taken all the letters Aziraphale had written to him, keeping them close to his heart. He would sit and read them often, weeping at the old memories and then wrapping the blonde in his arms.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called, jerking the redhead to attention.

“Ah,” he replied, tucking the letters back in a box under their bed. “I just like being reminded of how far we’ve come.”

He waved for the blonde to come over, pulling him down on the bed with him. Crowley rolled overtop of him until their eyes met. Aziraphale could tell that his husband had been crying, but he reached up to pull him into a kiss. When their mouths broke apart for air, Crowley’s lips moved to suck on his neck, eager for a round of lovemaking.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said before he was too lost in the heat of the moment.

“Yeah, angel?”

“I always had hope that you’d sail home to me one day,” Aziraphale said, drinking in the pure love that crossed Crowley’s face.


End file.
